


How to Be a Teenager

by inatshej



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alive Allison, Alive Hale Family, Alive Laura Hale, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Animals, Arguing, Basketball Player Derek Hale, Beacon Hills, Beacon Hills High School, Bisexual Derek Hale, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Biting, Blushing, Blushing Stiles Stilinski, Boys Kissing, Childhood Friends, Crossdressing, Crying, Crying Stiles Stilinski, Cultural References, Dancing, Dating, Derogatory Language, Dork Derek, Dork Stiles Stilinski, Dorks, Dorks in Love, Everyone Is Alive, First Dates, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Frottage, Frustration, Gay Male Character, Gay Stiles Stilinski, Gentle Kissing, Glompfest, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Humor, Jealous Derek, Jealous Stiles, Jealousy, Kissing, Loneliness, M/M, Makeup, Making Out, Male Homosexuality, Mathematics, Moaning, Neck Kissing, Non-Supernatural Beacon Hills, POV Stiles, Panty Kink, Past Derek Hale/Paige, Popular Derek, Rough Kissing, Scott is a Bad Friend, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Some Humor, Stargazing, Swearing, Tags Are Fun, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Teenage Dorks, Teenagers, The Jungle (Teen Wolf), Underage Kissing, Unrequited Love, Wikihow, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 06:22:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14182794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inatshej/pseuds/inatshej
Summary: How to be a teenager, thinks Stiles, watching the ceiling in his room as he can't fall asleep after another long night at the Jungle. That's what he doesn't know – how to be a teenager.He's not like Lydia Martin or Derek Hale – good-looking, smart, effortlessly amazing. He's nerdy, awkward, and gay. He's in love with his best friend who won't talk to him anymore. He keeps lying to Derek. He started cross-dressing.Stiles sighs, getting up and opening up his laptop. He finds an article on WikiHow and reads, there's no one way to be a normal teenager.Well fuck you, WikiHow.





	1. Step 1. Try to Be Normal

**Author's Note:**

> Based on pataper's beautiful prompt, I'm so happy I could write this:  
> „what about Stiles in love with Scott since forever and the day he decides to confess Scott is not impressed and he send him away (the "SOME OF US ARE HUMANS" scene is in my mind...with all the rain and the angst!).  
> so Stiles goes to the club Jungle and there he meet with his trans friends who convince him to dress as one of them (and here i have in mind the wonderful Benaya-trash's drawing of Stiles and Derek as girls...just beautiful).  
> while being there Derek shows up and starts talking to Stiles (dressed as a girl) because "she" reminds him a guy who he is pining over. He doesn't know this "girl" is the guy he is in love with.  
> So time pass and the nights at Jungle see more of girl!Stiles and Derek's talks.  
> Stiles starts having feelings for this amazing guy and starts forgetting about his longtime friend- now asshole- Scott.”
> 
> [The drawing is here.](http://benaya-trash.tumblr.com/tagged/female%21sterek)  
> Thank you so much for the prompt! As soon as I read it, I knew I wanted to write it. I hope you like the story.  
> Warnings for swearing, bad friend Scott, cross-dressing, homophobia, abusive relationship and panty kink. Most of the characters are underage, including Stiles and Derek, what have I done.  
> Before I started writing this fic I didn't know much about drag queens, transsexual people, and cross-dressers. My knowledge mainly came from:  
> 1\. [Discord Comics,](http://discordcomics.com/) especially [Shades of A](http://www.discordcomics.com/comic/shades-cover/) and [Charlie and Jamie](http://www.discordcomics.com/comic/charlies-story-cover/) stories – thus Charlie's name.  
> 2\. [Tootsie,](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tootsie) thus Dorothy/Michael.  
> 3\. Manga [Udagawachou De Mattete Yo,](https://myanimelist.net/manga/44055/Udagawachou_de_Mattete_yo) thus Yashiro.  
> When I started researching a bit, I found [That Pole Guy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9vUcS9kI3CU) – thus Travis.

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

''You know Allison Argent?''

Stiles frowns slightly and shifts his weight, sitting on the floor in Scott's room. ''The new girl?''

''Yeah,'' says Scott softly.

Stiles glances at him, oblivious to Halo they're playing.

''She's cute,'' adds Scott.

Stiles turns back to the computer. ''You want to date her?'' he asks, keeping his face blank.

Scott smiles. ''She's cute,'' he repeats.

Stiles has known Scott for years, Allison knows him for barely one day – yet it's the first time Scott has this expression on his face.

Stiles kills his character.

Just like that, Scott's good mood evaporates. He leans back, letting out the air, and turns to look at Stiles.

''Did you have to do that?'' asks Scott, his gaze steely.

Stiles is completely still, afraid to even swallow to not agitate Scott further.

''I'm sorr-''

''Whatever,'' Scott cuts him off and turns back to the computer. ''I love you, man, but you're such a crappy friend sometimes.''

 ***

There was no sudden realization. They've always been so close that it seemed natural.

On Tuesday, Scott and Allison talk with each other, smiling way too much than necessary. On Thursday, Scott gives Allison a pen and their hands touch. They keep exchanging glances.

Next week, Stiles eats lunch with Scott, listening about Allison.

''She likes archery,'' says Scott, locking eyes with him for once. '' _Archery_. Isn't that amazing? You should get a similar hobby.''

Stiles plasters a smile on his face and mutter _yeah_ , then feels the grimace slipping away as his gaze wanders to the side.

He has an odd feeling that someone's watching him and looks up to see Derek Hale.

Stiles raises eyebrows and turns back to his lunch, hoping that Scott didn't notice.

 ***

During the first two weeks, Stiles learns that Allison is nice. She doesn't see much of Stiles, obviously focused on Scott, who's equally concentrated on her.

Stiles wants to hate her.

He goes to the Jungle to whine to Dorothy, who's never been good at comforting people and now just feeds him his own peanut butter cookies.

''You know, there's always sex change,'' says Charlie. ''I mean, it helped me.''

''I don't want to be a girl,'' frowns Stiles. ''I'm very happy being a guy. I'm unhappy about being _gay_.''

''You can't really do anything about that,'' says Dorothy gently, patting his hair.

Yashiro watches him, considering. ''You should just forget about Scott. I mean, find a new hobby or something. Start cross-dressing like us.''

Stiles makes a face. ''I'd look terrible as a girl. I'd feel the same as those people who go to a zoo to have a good time and instead get stared down by llamas, turning uncomfortable and kind of scared.''

Charlie draws in her eyebrows. ''I've never got stared down by llamas.''

''Are you scared of llamas?'' asks Dorothy, careful. ''That's okay-''

''No, that's not it,'' Stiles cuts her off. ''Ugh, never mind.''

''Seriously, try cross-dressing,'' repeats Yashiro. ''Just look at us. We've made a career out of it,'' she adds, Dorothy nodding at her words.

''Scott would disown me if he knew what you were saying.''

''Scott is an asshole,'' mutters Charlie.

Stiles' lips tighten, the edges of his mouth turning down. ''Don't talk like-''

''He's always been an asshole to us,'' states Yashiro, preparing her wig. ''Don't try to pretend otherwise.''

Stiles grimaces and is ready to reply, but Dorothy just pushes another cookie at him. ''Let's not talk about it now. Help me choose an outfit for tonight?''

Stiles lets out the air and nods, standing up.

 ***

''Shit, we had homework?'' asks Scott on Monday. It's the third week already.

''Yeah,'' Stiles nods and leans down to search his backpack. ''This printout, remember?''

''I completely forgot after the date with Allison.''

Stiles gives him a tight smile, although it's a good thing. Scott will talk about his date and won't ask about Stiles' weekend at the Jungle.

Scott glances at him and raises his eyebrows. He isn't smiling anymore. ''You should make more effort to be friends with her,'' he says. ''She's my girlfriend, after all.''

When Stiles doesn't reply, his eyes still on the printout, Scott shakes his head.

''I'll just copy the answers,'' he states, reaching for the paper.

Stiles has a dumb urge to keep it to himself to punish Scott for the date. God, he's so pathetic.

''Thanks.'' Scott smiles at him and quickly rewrites the answers. _He has the skill by now, after all,_ thinks Stiles bitterly just to unleash self-hate for the thought.

Scott replies to the last question on the sheet and gives it back to Stiles. He smiles at him suddenly. ''You know I love you,'' he says, touching Stiles' cheek and taking his hand right back when the rest of the students come into the classroom.

 ***

Allison needs to go back home early so Stiles stands on the side, waiting as Scott finishes saying bye to her. It takes a long fucking time.

Scott and Allison are talking about something, smiling, then they laugh. Scott sways closer, steps in and they kiss, holding each other close, then just hug. In a moment, Allison leans back and gives Scott another sweet smile. Scott slides his fingers down her arm, holds her hand and finally says a heartfelt, ''Bye,'' as slowly as possible letting her go.

Stiles can't bear to watch. It's all that he was supposed to have.

 ***

''Hey, you should go on a date with us.''

Stiles turns to look at Scott incredulously. ''What?''

''Double date. That sounds fun, right?''

Stiles frowns, then comes back to his English essay. Scott is trying to integrate him back into his life, so he should be happy about it. ''I don't have anyone I could go with, though,'' he says tentatively.

''Just take Heather,'' shrugs Scott.

Stiles raises eyes to him again. ''Scott,'' he says, unsure how to take the words, ''I'm gay, remember?''

Scott sighs and looks at him, impatient. ''Stiles, think about it. I mean, are you _sure_ you're gay?''

A beat of silence.

''What?''

Scott looks to the side as if checking if anyone's close. ''You have to think about your future. I get that we're still in high school, but you'll have to get a job, buy a house, you know. Just, live.''

Stiles stares at him, uncomprehending. ''What are you talking about?''

''Well, you can't be gay all your life,'' states Scott. At Stiles' face, he adds, ''I'm just looking out for you.''

Stiles doesn't answer, only keeps staring at him. Scott gives him a clap on the arm and Stiles sways with the force of it.

''Well, I gotta go now. I have History class,'' says Scott and walks away.

 ***

It wasn't true. Scott's not like that. They've known each other for years and just, there's a lot going on right now. They'll talk and everything will explain itself and it will be okay, repeats Stiles in his mind.

''Hey,'' he says, seeing Scott and bites his lip. ''Can we go back home together tomorrow?''

''Of course,'' Scott smiles. ''I was actually thinking of asking you the same thing. Or, you know what? Just wait for me an hour longer today. I have lacrosse practice.''

''Uh, sure,'' answers Stiles. He can't quite tell why he feels so lame. ''I'll wait here.''

Scott leaves. Stiles sinks to the floor on the corridor and waits.

It's Thursday of the third week. How long will Scott keep dating Allison? They seem happy together. That means long.

An hour passes by.

How long is long? A few months? A year? A life? Is he being dramatic?

An hour and fifteen minutes have passed by but Scott needs to shower and change after lacrosse.

Of course, Stiles will wait for him anyway. They've been friends for so long. How could he not?

The practice might have taken more time.

Maybe Scott had to run more laps.

Or maybe he-

Stiles can hear the steps on the corridor and snaps his head to the side.

It's Derek Hale, the model student, great at sports and good with studies, popular and respected, now looking at lame Stiles.

Stiles turns away, expressionless.

''What are you doing here?'' asks Derek, stopping next to him.

''What's it to you?'' shoots Stiles, defensive.

Derek doesn't answer at first, just watches Stiles like he's a curious animal. ''It's getting late.''

''I'm waiting for a friend.''

Derek frowns slightly. ''Scott McCall? He's left already.''

Stiles looks up at him. ''No,'' he argues dumbly. ''He told me to wait for him.''

''I saw him walking away with the new Argent girl.''

''Right,'' says Stiles after a beat, dropping his head. He licks his lips, they feel awfully dry. He stands up.

Derek steps closer, his face showing concern. ''I can give you a ride,'' he suggests. Stiles feels like one of those street cats to which people give food.

''I'm good,'' he replies, not looking at Derek, and turns away.

''Wait, Stiles, let me-''

Stiles goes downstairs, hoping Derek didn't see his tears.

 ***

''Hi,'' says Stiles the next day, watching Scott.

''Hey,'' replies Scott and gives him a quick smile. ''We have the Math test today, right? I'll fail, I barely looked over the material.''

''Were you – busy? Yesterday?''

''Yeah.'' Scott smiles again, this time longer, more sincere. ''I went to the cinema with Allison. I just saw her when I had practice. I thought she was gone already but she stayed to talk with someone, so I asked her to wait for me, _and she agreed,_ '' he says with emphasis, like he still can't believe Allison was this kind.

''I thought we were supposed to go back home together,'' blurts out Stiles, his eyes on the floor as they go down the corridor.

''Aw, well,'' Scott makes a face, glancing at him. ''I figured you just went by yourself.''

''Oh,'' says Stiles. After a second, he adds suddenly, ''Derek Hale talked with me when I was waiting for you.''

Scott straightens and frowns. ''Derek Hale?'' he repeats and grimaces. ''What did he want?''

Stiles shrugs. ''Just asked what I was doing. Offered me a ride home.''

Scott narrows his eyes at him. ''Did you agree?''

For some reason, Stiles wants to say _yes_ just to see Scott's reaction, but only shakes his head in the end.

Scott nods. After a moment, he adds, ''I don't like him. He has two sisters but never talks with them in school. Isn't that weird?''

Stiles shrugs, not really caring. ''He was surprised I stayed after the classes for so long,'' he says, feeling like he should at least try to defend Derek.

''Was it such a problem for you?'' asks Scott, his voice hard. ''I couldn't just leave Allison,'' he states, then turns to Stiles to search his face for forgiveness. ''I mean, she's a girl.''

Stiles isn't sure how to understand that. ''And I'm a boy,'' he says dumbly.

''Yeah,'' sighs Scott, apparently taking that as a sign that everything's okay now between them, and slings his arm around Stiles, keeping him close.

Stiles can see Scott's cheek just inches from his lips and wants to kiss the skin there.

He makes himself look away.

He should ask what Scott meant when he said that Stiles needs to think about his life, his future, but he doesn't want to. At this moment, he finally has Scott back, at least for a while. He doesn't have many moments like this now. First love seems to be all-encompassing.

 ***

Derek keeps watching them when Stiles walks back home with Scott. His gaze feels judgmental and Stiles looks away.

It's been a month.

The walk back home isn't nice. They spend little time together, recently, so Stiles should be happy for this afternoon, but he's tired and hungry. Scott keeps talking about Heather. It starts raining.

''And Allison likes Heather too,'' says Scott now. ''They both like animals.''

''Who doesn't like animals, Scott?'' asks Stiles flatly.

''Well, Heather even volunteers at animal shelter so-''

''For fuck's sake, Scott, I don't care about Heather,'' snaps Stiles. He feels like apologizing at once, Scott will be angry with him – but Stiles has enough of everything. He just wants it to end, he wants to be Scott's best friend as they've always been, he wants it to be as before.

He can already see his house and briefly imagines teleporting there right this second.

''Well,'' Scott pauses and turns to him, ''you should!''

''What?''

''Look, Stiles, I've given you plenty of time but you keep the same.'' Scott huffs out, annoyed, and locks eyes with him. ''You can't hang out all your life with those-'' he pauses to grimace again, ''from the Jungle. You have to act normal if you can't _be_ normal. Why can't you just start now, with Heather, and be happy for me and Allison?''

At first, Stiles wants to reject the implication that he doesn't like Scott dating Allison, he wants to lie and really try to appear, _act_ like he's okay – but then there's a rush of wind, chilling the raindrops on his skin and he shivers. He doesn't have the strength to act, he shouldn't _have to_ act. ''Because-'' he stops himself, still seconds before he can't quite believe he'll say that, he'll confess, ''I like you, Scott.''

He keeps looking at Scott's face, shocked that he actually said it, and drops his eyes to the ground, his face growing hotter.

''I know,'' replies Scott tiredly. ''But what do you-''

''No, Scott,'' interrupts Stiles softly, ''I _like_ you. I want to be with you.''

''Yeah, I know,'' repeats Scott. He sounds impatient. ''But, honestly, Stiles, you can't expect me to be gay!''

Stiles isn't sure how much time passes before he raises his head. ''That's...''

''What, you thought I'll leave everything and go out with you?'' Scott looks at him, incredulous. ''I like Allison. And you're a good friend but this – this is _disgusting_ , okay?''

Stiles feels too heavy.

''If you could just take Heather – no one cares what we'd do at home.''

''No,'' says Stiles weakly. ''You don't mean that.''

''Do you have any better ideas? You're gay, Stiles. You don't exactly have much leeway here.''

Stiles drops his head again, staring wide-eyed at the ground covered with puddles.

Scott keeps talking about something, there is a lot of words but they all miss Stiles.

''Fuck,'' he breathes in the middle of Scott's lecture. ''I really like you, Scott.''

Scott frowns at him and opens his mouth. Before he can say anything, though, Stiles continues, ''But I can't stand the thought of talking with you now. Just, leave me alone.''

Stiles looks up to see Scott staring at him, taken aback, and starts walking home.

Scott grabs his hand. ''Wait, Stiles, this-''

Stiles takes his hand off his and repeats, his voice as calm and steady as he can muster, '' _Leave me alone_.''

He walks away. Scott keeps shouting after him, at first sounding shocked, then his voice turns softer, then furious. Stiles can't tell what he's saying.

He can't believe he's done it.

Stiles finds himself in his room, not sure how he got there. He feels dazed from the talk with Scott. His whole body is shaking, either from the stress or the cold. He wonders if he should take a bath, almost laughing at how normal the thought is, even though he's just had the biggest fight with Scott since – since – long, Jesus, it's hard to think, _what the fuck has he done_.

He stares down at the floor and realizes after a minute he's soaking wet. He really should take a bath.

The house feels empty. He can't stand the silence and turns on the water, filling the bathroom with the sound of it. He tries to focus on it to not let his mind think of anything else.

Once he's finished, Stiles finds dry clothes and stands in the middle of his room. He has no idea what to do. The room feels like it's swallowing him and Stiles shifts, holding back the urge to cry. He takes a harsh breath and closes his eyes. He can try doing his homework. He can pretend to watch Futurama, end up remembering the fight with Scott and in the end call him to apologize.

Stiles lets out the air sharply, knowing he has nothing to apologize for but feeling like he needs Scott more. He's fucked up, he needs to forget about Scott, go somewhere else-

He takes his stuff and leaves the house to go to the Jungle.

 ***

''Hey, Stiles,'' smiles Dorothy. ''I thought you would stay home today? Talk with Scott?''

Stiles looks away, fisting his hands and focusing on the feeling of his nails pushing into the skin.

''What's wrong?'' she asks, coming closer, alarmed.

''I had a fight with him,'' he says quietly.

''I'm so sorry,'' says Dorothy and looks around, probably trying to find Yashiro and Charlie, but they aren't in the room. Instead, she notices peanut butter cookies. ''Do you want some?'' she asks, reaching with them towards Stiles somewhat desperately.

Stiles huffs out a laugh and that's what triggers his tears. He slumps down on a free chair.

''I'm so sorry,'' repeats Dorothy, patting him on his arm and searching for tissues. ''I have no idea what to do to help you,'' she admits. ''I'm so sorry.''

Stiles shakes his head, trying to assure her it's okay, but he's crying too much to make much sense.

''What's going on?'' asks Yashiro, walking into the room. Charlie stops right behind her, staring at the scene before them, taking in crying Stiles, apologizing, wide-eyed Dorothy and the plate of peanut butter cookies between them.

Stiles tries to laugh again at how stunned they are but instead, it turns into another sad sob. The sound jolts Yashiro from the frozen state she was in and she comes up closer to Stiles, Charlie trailing after her.

Stiles manages to utter some keywords, explaining the situation messily. He feels like he cries for way longer than necessary but can't quite stop himself as if once he chose to let out a single tear any resolve to remain calm was gone.

When he's calmed down some and breathing comes easier, Charlie catches his gaze.

''So what are you going to do now?''

Stiles shrugs, looking away. He can't make himself say anything and the silence stretches.

''Cross-dress,'' states Yashiro. They all turn to her. ''That's what you'll do now. Cross-dress as a beautiful girl, go out there to dance and forget about this asshole.''

''That could be a good idea,'' agrees Dorothy, looking at him.

Stiles frowns slightly, unconvinced. ''I know that you wish well, but I'll look just weird as a girl.''

Charlie rolls her eyes. ''Yeah, you think you'll look like a llama, we've heard,'' she says. ''Come on, you can try. Playing with a costume is part of the fun, so we can just stop on that, okay?''

Stiles bites his lip. Suddenly, the perspective of becoming someone else for a while seems incredibly tempting. ''So I won't have to show myself to anyone else?'' he asks, hesitating.

''Of course not,'' assures Dorothy.

''You'll want to, though,'' says Yashiro, smirking. ''When I make my make-up I make it magic.''

Stiles smiles and lets himself be dragged to the costumes. He chooses one dress for himself and changes, then glances at his reflection.

 ***

He looks weird. Like a guy that took girl's clothes, weird. He wants to give up on cross-dressing but remembers how Yashiro, Dorothy, and Charlie wanted to help him and decides to go with it just for a bit longer.

 ***

Yashiro sits him before the mirror and applies make-up on his face. It feels funny, somewhat tingly, but not unpleasant. Finally, Charlie gives Yashiro a wig which he puts on his head and smiles. ''It's done,'' she states.

Stiles looks up at them, unsure. They are all grinning, pleased with themselves, and wait for him to see his reflection.

Stiles straightens and full of bad premonitions peeks at the mirror. He looks-

he looks like a girl. He has a dark green dress and a red knitwear jacket on. His hair is long, ginger shade turning light brown, messily gathered at the back of his head, some falling down on his arms and back. His face is still marked with moles and freckles, but the make-up, highlighting his lips, eyelashes, and eyebrows, plus slightly pinked cheeks cause him to look like a girl.

He looks _pretty_.

 ***

Stiles walks out and looks at the people in the club. Suddenly, he feels amazing – confident in his outfit, confident in himself because - he's not Stiles anymore. He is _pretty_.

He steps between the dancers and soon, there's someone swaying right behind him, then another man appears close by, he can feel the gaze of the others on himself.

Stiles is on the top of the world. He already knows he'll never forget this night.

He doesn't know how much time has passed when he finally exits the dancing floor and goes to the bar to take something to drink.

He looks over and sees Derek Hale sitting on the barstool. He freezes on the spot.

Derek Hale, the Beacon Hills High School's model student is in the Jungle. In the _gay club_. Stiles keeps staring at him, unbelievably curious.

He would never do this, but he is not lame Stiles now. He doesn't feel like Stiles, he feels like – like Blue, blue is pretty and _he is pretty_ , he goes to the Jungle to have fun, people dance with him, other guys _want to dance with him_.

He comes closer and sits down next to Derek.

''Hey,'' he says and gives him a quick smile.

Derek glances at him and away. ''Hey,'' he replies somewhat blandly.

Stiles frowns at him slightly. ''Are you okay? You seem sad.''

Derek side-eyes him, then returns to his coke. He shrugs and says, ''I didn't really want to come, but my sister made me go out.'' When Stiles keeps watching him, he sighs, takes a sip and dropping his eyes, confesses, ''There's a guy I like and he won't even look at me.''

Stiles so surprised he's not sure how he should react. Derek has a crush, the _Derek Hale_ has a crush, this gossip is worth, like, a chocolate shake or something.

Derek turns the glass in his hand and adds, ''He's in love with someone else anyway.''

Stiles immediately feels bad for thinking of using Derek's words as a gossip material.

''Just today I confessed to my friend and he rejected me,'' he blurts out, empathizing with Derek. ''I imagined that he will, he has a girlfriend, but – he already knew I like him and still called me disgusting. The worst part was that he wasn't entirely against the idea of being with me. He just didn't want other people to know about it.''

Derek stares at him, stunned. ''That's horrible.''

Stiles feels like he should shrug and brush it off. Instead, he looks at the glasses at the bar and nods. ''It was,'' he admits.

Derek frowns and glances at him. ''But why would he be _disgusted_?''

''Uh, that's,'' stutters Stiles, wondering how much he can tell Derek, ''we've been friends for many years. I guess that's it.''

Derek nods and there is a silence between them until Derek asks with a hint of a smile, ''Does this fancy dress help?''

Stiles narrows his eyes. ''This dress is fucking beautiful.''

Derek smirks. ''You _are_ beautiful in it, even if you're a guy.''

''How do you know I'm cross-dressing?'' says Stiles, offended. ''Yashiro did a great job. I could totally be a girl.''

Derek fully smiles now. He is really handsome, notices Stiles in the back of his mind. ''You look like a girl, that's true. But this is a gay club.''

''Well, you don't know what's underneath this skirt, do you?'' Stiles blurts out.

He can't believe the words really left his mouth and blushes, embarrassed. No make-up will contain his flush. It reaches everywhere – first his cheeks and ears, then his neck, down to his chest.

He feels like he won't ever be able to meet Derek's eyes again and does so as soon as he hears his startled laugh.

Stiles smooths down his dress and comes back to the earlier question to focus the attention somewhere else. ''Actually, it's my first time cross-dressing, but it did help me.''

''Really?'' asks Derek, turning back to Stiles.

''Yeah. It's,'' he pauses, thinking over his evening. ''It takes your mind off things.'' He smirks suddenly and catches Derek's gaze, trying to play Blue, be confident even with his cheeks still hot. ''Why, you want to try?''

To his surprise, Derek looks like he actually considers the offer. ''Can you do make-up and the rest?'' he asks finally, glancing up at Stiles.

''Not me, but my friends here, Charlie, Dorothy, and Yashiro can'' explains Stiles. ''They love this stuff.''

''But, would it be okay with them? They don't even know me,'' says Derek, shifting in his place.

 _Wow_ , thinks Stiles. Derek is seriously considering this.

''Don't worry,'' grins Stiles, ''they'll do it for me as a favor.''

''But,'' Derek looks at him, still hesitating, ''you mean here? Now?''

''If you want to,'' shrugs Stiles. ''My friends work in the Jungle, so we can go backstage.''

Derek watches him for a while longer, then suddenly nods. ''Yeah. Okay.''

Stiles grins at him again and leads the way.

When they enter the room, Stiles finds Charlie and says, ''Hey, this is my friend, uh,'' starts Stiles and glances at Derek, realizing they haven't even exchanged their names.

''Derek.''

''He's crushing on some guy who won't give him the time of day and wanted to try cross-dressing, like me,'' explains Stiles.

''Just forget about him,'' says Charlie, turning to Derek. She stands up to come closer to them. ''Men are horrible creatures. I would know, I was one,'' she adds and narrows her eyes, staring at Derek. ''I'll prepare a wig for you. Dorothy, you there?''

''Yes, what is it?'' asks Dorothy. She is in the middle of changing and Derek looks stunned, seeing her. Stiles doesn't blame him – Dorothy is a drag queen. She's clearly a man, tall, bulky and muscular, but still has her pink Barbie-like dress and a blond wig. At least her impressive, six-inches long heels are gone.

''Do you have something nice for this boy?''

Dorothy looks at Derek, considering. ''Yeah, I'll find something.'' She smiles at Derek and says, ''It's nice to meet you, dear. What's your name?''

''Um, Derek.''

''Call me Dorothy in the Jungle and Michael outside of it,'' she says. ''Come here whenever you want to.''

''Thank you,'' says Derek, somewhat dazed.

Stiles smirks, watching him. ''Oh, hey, you're dancing today?'' he asks, noticing Yashiro in the corner.

Yashiro hums in agreement and turns to him with a wink. ''Remember to watch me and I'll prepare make-up for your friend.''

''Always,'' Stiles grins.

Dorothy comes back with some clothes for Derek. ''So you're all performing in the Jungle?'' Derek asks, curious.

''No,'' answers Charlie. ''I deal with the Jungle's finances. Dorothy is our performer, she sings in the Jungle during the weekends, and Yashiro is a dancer.''

Derek nods, wide-eyed, and takes the clothes in his hands. Then, he suddenly turns to catch Stiles' gaze.

''Right, I forgot to ask,'' he says with a small smile. ''What's _your_ name?''

''Uh,'' Stiles glances up at him, surprised. ''Just call me Blue.''

''Blue?''

''That's how people call me, it's a nickname,'' tries Stiles, ignoring the flat looks he receives from the rest of the room.

''Huh,'' says Derek, regarding him. ''How did you end up with it?''

''Blue's my favorite color,'' replies Stiles quickly. Finally, the truth.

Derek nods and leaves to change. Stiles stays silent, not acknowledging his friends' dismayed expressions.

''Look, I'm sorry guys, but he's a guy from my school and he's like, really popular.'' Stiles bites his lip and grimaces. ''I don't want him to know it's me. I seriously just want to forget about myself tonight.''

''Well, I'm not the one to judge,'' shrugs Yashiro. ''It's not like Yashiro is my real name either.''

Stiles gives her a grateful look.

Charlie grimaces. ''You know you're just lying to him now, right?''

''Better that than waking up to the whole school gossiping about me,'' retorts Stiles.

Charlie raises her hands placatingly.

''You can stay as Blue when cross-dressing if you prefer so,'' says Dorothy. ''But is it okay towards your friend?''

Stiles grimaces. ''We're not really friends. We barely talk to each other at school,'' he admits. Then, remembering, he adds, ''Scott actually doesn't like him, now that I think of it.''

''Well, here comes a point for Derek, then,'' states Charlie.

Stiles grimaces but they can't argue longer as Derek returns. He has a long, gray dress and a blue cardigan.

Yashiro is finally done with her make-up and points Derek to sit before her mirror. Derek meets her eyes in the reflection and says, surprised, ''You look beautiful.''

It's true. Although in a male body, Yashiro is lean and can transform herself to look like a woman. She flashes Derek a grin and replies, ''You're not too bad yourself, honey. Now sit still.''

Stiles watches how Derek is changing from a boy to a girl. Yashiro applies mascara on Derek's eyelashes, adds some lipstick on his lips, pinkens his cheeks slightly. Charlie gives him a wig – long, straight, black hair that completes the image.

Derek can't tear his eyes away from the mirror at first, amazed. Finally, he turns to Yashiro, Charlie, and Dorothy. ''I- thank you,'' he says, staring at them. ''Thank you so much.''

''Anything for - Blue,'' replies Dorothy, smiling brightly to hide her pause.

Charlie hums in agreement. ''As long as he brings those peanut butter cookies.''

Stiles smiles at them, suddenly overwhelmingly relieved that he has those friends. If it wasn't for them, he'd be in his room, crying and binge-watching Futurama.

He turns to Derek, who's regarding himself in the mirror again and stands next to him.

''We really look like girls,'' says Derek, dazed.

Stiles draws his eyebrows, considering. ''I'd say we look like lesbians,'' he replies.

Derek hums in agreement. ''You're way out of my league, though,'' he says.

Stiles meets his eyes in the mirror and stares at him for a second, realizing Derek wasn't joking. He lets out a startled laugh.

He glances away and tries to come up with a reply, but all of them revolve around the fact that it's _Derek Hale_ saying that to _Stiles Stilinski_. He shakes his head and decides to change the topic entirely.

''Do you want to be called differently as you cross-dress?''

Derek draws in his eyebrows. ''You mean taking on, like, a girl's name?''

Stiles tenses and shrugs, not looking at him. ''Some people do that,'' he says defensively, already preparing himself for something, there's always something, it's never just _cool, okay, not my business, whatever floats your boat_ , for fuck's sake. Charlie wouldn't let Derek step backstage ever again if she were to hear something, but she's left already to her office and Yashiro and Dorothy are busy preparing for their performances.

''Call me Derine,'' decides Derek.

Stiles catches his gaze in the mirror and remembers after a second to close his mouth. ''Okay,'' he agrees with a jerky nod. ''Yeah. Derine.'' He tries to go for humor and says, ''Dee for short.''

Derek gives him a flat look but quirks a smile and for a second, Stiles feels like he's in an alternate version of reality, where Derek easily joking with Stiles is normal.

He turns to look in the mirror again and reminds himself that he's Blue now. Stiles is lame, full of problems, and can go fuck himself.

He bites his lip and asks, ''Should we go dance?''

Derek nods and they leave. As soon as they face the crowd, though, Derek seems to lose his confidence, his steps faltering.

''It's okay,'' says Stiles, glancing at him. ''No one will recognize you.''

Derek shakes his head. ''That's not it. I'm just,'' he pauses, his face not telling anything, ''everyone's looking at us.''

''Yeah.'' Stiles grins, reveling in the attention. There's a guy eyeing him as they are passing him by and Stiles lets his smile grow, head held high and gaze focused somewhere else. In this moment, he feels like Lydia Martin.

They walk to the dancefloor and again, Stiles can lose himself in the music and swaying. Just as Yashiro finishes her performance, he realizes he's completely forgotten about the time and only when he's sweaty and tired, but still feeling amazing, he makes his way to the bar to ask the bartender what time is it.

Stiles feels a spike of adrenaline, remembering his curfew when it turns out it's almost midnight. He finds Derek and shows him that he's going backstage again. Derek nods, unconcerned, still dancing, so Stiles leaves him be and quickly changes back, Dorothy helping him with the make-up removal.

The ride home feels weird. He's back in his normal clothes again, he looks tired and unattractive. The sudden quiet is disconcerting. He keeps remembering flashes from his talk with Scott, but it doesn't make him feel helpless like earlier simply because it doesn't feel _real_ anymore.

He doesn't want tomorrow to come.

 ***

The next day Stiles barely climbs out of bed, not having gotten enough sleep.

Almost as soon as he arrives at school, he sees Derek on the corridor and goes the different way, his heart thudding in his chest.

He avoids Derek for the rest of the day. He knows it's stupid, Derek won't recognize him, they don't know each other that well as _Stiles_ and _Derek_. Besides, Derek didn't seem intolerant – he cross-dressed himself – but no one here would believe that. They _would_ believe this about Stiles, though.

Scott seemed accepting too, after all. When Stiles finally said that he is gay, Scott just sighed and slung his arm around Stiles, saying, ''We'll deal with it.''

Now that he thinks about it, the answer wasn't that accepting but back then he was too relieved with Scott staying friends with him.

It shouldn't have been a question.

Cross-dressing shouldn't be a problem. It's weird to think of himself as deserving acceptance, deserving anything, he's not special or even good enough, he just – is.

But he knows why Charlie's so snappy sometimes, why Dorothy's so worried about everything going on in the Jungle and where Yashiro's not-giving-fucks attitude comes from.

Stiles feels a flare of anger at the world in general but pushes it down – his frustration means nothing here. It's not okay but _who cares_ , he has to deal anyway.

Maybe Scott was right. Trying to act normal, because no one will check what he actually does at home-

but yesterday it felt so different with Derek.

Still, what does it matter if Derek today is back to his Model Student mode?

Fuck, his next class is with Scott and Allison.

 ***

Stiles doesn't go to the Jungle that day, afraid of meeting Derek so soon after school. He watches Futurama instead, feeling like a failure. On Saturday, he cares less about Derek's impression – he just needs to get out and do something.

Charlie, Dorothy, and Yashiro help him dress and coo over his transformation. Stiles looks at his image in the mirror and feels like he can finally breathe.

He loses himself in the dancing, not caring about the people around him, from time to time glancing at the direction of the bar, but he can't see anyone on Derek's place from Thursday.

After some time, curiosity gets ahead of him and he looks at the bar more carefully. He sees Derek in another seat from which he can watch the crowd.

Happily surprised, Stiles rushes forward. Jungle is busy this time, though, it's the weekend, there are so many people Stiles has to pass as he walks forward. Derek could have come just to have fun, he could have come to meet with someone else, not with him.

His steps are getting slower, but it's too late – Derek notices him and waves, his face brightened with a smile.

Stiles smiles back and comes up to him, regaining his confidence.

''Hey, Blue,'' calls Derek, trying to shout over the music and the people. Stiles startles a bit, hearing the name, but Derek doesn't seem to notice. He points at the doors and Stiles nods in agreement.

Stiles is in a thin dress, but the evening is warm enough that it doesn't bother him.

Derek smiles at him again.

''You seem to be in a good mood today,'' observes Stiles. ''Something happened with your crush?''

Derek makes a face, looking away. ''No,'' he replies. ''I barely saw him yesterday.'' He turns back to Stiles and his lips curl up. ''I'm happy to see you here again. I had a great time on Thursday.''

Stiles huffs out a laugh and flushes, surprised how direct Derek is. ''Me too,'' he admits.

''You're cross-dressing today again?''

''Yeah,'' says Stiles and shrugs. ''It's fun.''

 _Not a lie when it's true_ , thinks Stiles. _Fuck omission_.

Derek hums in agreement and Stiles looks up at him. ''You want to cross-dress as well?''

''No, I'm good,'' replies Derek easily. ''I don't really like wearing make-up.''

Stiles nods and lets out the air. He doesn't mind it himself but can understand how it can bother other people. Standing still, he watches some drunk guy walking through the parking lot. His friends can't stop laughing at his meandering legs.

''Are you from Beacon Hills?'' asks Derek, turning to him.

''I'm-'' Stiles licks his lips, startled, and quickly decides on a lie. ''No, I'm from Beacon Heights.''

''Are you a high school student there?''

''Yeah,'' nods Stiles and wanting to redirect Derek's focus, asks, ''What about you?''

''I'm a junior at Beacon Hills High.''

Stiles shifts his weight. He'd rather not talk about this stuff at all. ''Your sister wanted you to go out tonight again?'' he asks, giving Derek a small smile.

''No,'' answers Derek. His expression changes to a slight grimace. ''She doesn't know I'm here. I mean, I always come here alone because I don't really know any other gay guy.''

Stiles nods. ''Me too. Always gay, always alone.''

Derek smiles weakly and says, ''Actually, I'm bisexual, but everyone thinks I'm straight because I had a girlfriend.''

''You broke up?''

Derek nods, suddenly tense and not looking at him, his face blank.

''Aw, dude.'' Stiles moves to bump Derek's shoulder for the sole reason that he's Blue now, not Stiles who'd be too shy for that. ''Don't worry, we're members of the Broken Hearts Club now.''

''Broken Hearts Club?'' Derek wrinkles his nose. ''The name sounds like one out of a rom-com.''

Stiles rolls his eyes. ''You'd know that, huh?''

''No.'' Derek sends him a glare. ''I actually watch sci-fi.''

''Really?'' asks Stiles, surprised. ''Have you watched _Primer_?''

They talk for hours.

 ***

Monday. There's a thick fog in Beacon Hills that turns everything gray. Stiles has enough of school after the first period.

He has made a friend on Saturday which constitutes a Magical Weekend. Scott, however, must have had a Miraculous Weekend as he is sitting at lunch with Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore – the most popular couple.

He's been with Allison for five weeks now.

 ***

Wednesday, Stiles plans to go to the Jungle again. The school makes him miserable. He sees Scott making out, giggling, and holding hands with Allison fucking everywhere. Derek's back in his Model Student role, joking with his group of friends at breaks, answering the teachers' questions during the lessons and practicing basketball in the afternoons.

Stiles doesn't look at him during the lunch. Derek seems to be completely different like that, belonging to another world.

Here, Stiles is just this sad guy eating his lunch alone again.

''Hey,'' he hears and looks up. It's Heather. ''Can I sit with you?''

''Sure,'' shrugs Stiles, surprised. He likes Heather but they've never been close. Then again, he's only ever been close with Scott.

''What's up?'' he asks. He feels wary after Scott kept mentioning Heather the last time they've talked.

It feels odd, knowing it was barely last week. He's been to the Jungle only two times, but both outings felt incredible, so different from the way he lives every day.

''Nothing,'' says Heather and gives him a small smile. ''I just wanted to ask if you're okay.''

Stiles stills and keeps his face blank. ''You've talked with Scott?''

''Didn't have to,'' she replies, shaking her head. ''I can see something's happened. Did you fight?''

''Don't worry about it,'' says Stiles, not looking at her. ''It's better now. We both need some space.''

The excuse sounds good and healthy, exactly how his relationship with Scott is not.

Stiles focuses on his food for a moment, thinking of something to talk about. ''So,'' he starts and blurts out, ''what's your favorite animal?''

Heather looks up at him and chuckles at the question. ''Flying dragon,'' she replies.

Before she can add something more, Stiles narrows his eyes. ''You mean those lizards that can glide?''

''Yeah, those!'' she answers, brightening at his words.

''Why flying lizards?'' asks Stiles, looking at her.

Heather shrugs. ''Because who cares about them?''

''Huh?''

''Who cares about gliding lizards? They are just those quirky things in South Asia. Lizards will die anyway from climate change, we're all gonna die, so who cares?''

Stiles keeps watching her, having forgotten his lunch, and blinks. ''That escalated quickly.''

''Sorry,'' she sighs. ''I'm just frustrated because I thought Allison and I were friends, and Scott seemed okay with that, but recently he keeps coming up whenever I try to talk with Allison and I can tell he doesn't want me close.''

''Well, it's his first girlfriend,'' tries Stiles. ''That's probably why they're so...'' he shrugs trailing off, and only then realizes he automatically defended Scott.

He is fucked up.

Heather sends him a weak smile. ''Thanks. And sorry for talking to you about that.''

''Don't be. I don't mind.''

Stiles really, really doesn't. He's too happy for having someone to speak to.

Heather smiles again, more sincerely, and adds, ''Besides, I love flying dragons because they are like small dragons, so they're cute and amazing.''

Stiles looks at her, considering. ''Do you play DnD or something?''

 ***

It's Thursday, but Stiles can wait until the weekend before going to the Jungle. He needs to think of clothes and shoes for his cross-dressing anyway. He doesn't _need_ to go to the Jungle to survive one week at school, even if it feels like that.

 ***

Friday, Stiles can't wait for the school to end. He searches his wardrobe but none of his clothes can be used by Blue. He finds some old sneakers, however, and cleans them to wear later tonight.

Dorothy gives him some other clothes to try on, but they are all too big for him. Finally, Yashiro finds a short black dress she got from her friend.

Derek stands up and points to the doors as soon as he sees him. Jungle is crowded tonight as well, the beginning of the weekend felt in the hot, _funfunfun_ atmosphere.

''Hey, I haven't seen you during the week,'' says Derek.

Stiles feels dumbly happy that he wasn't the only one who wanted to meet. ''I was thinking of coming on Wednesday, but you know, too much homework,'' he lies and grimaces.

Derek nods. ''You have trouble with some classes? Maybe I can help you.''

Stiles glances at him, startled at the offer. ''Nah, I should be fine,'' he says. He's never had problems with school. He's not a model student like Derek Hale, but he's good. ''You could help me with some shopping, though,'' he says and gives Derek a slight smile.

''Sure,'' Derek replies easily.

''No, I meant for my cross-dressing.''

''Okay,'' nods Derek and gives him a once-over. Stiles tries to stay still, surprised and feeling self-conscious, even though he is Blue, not lame Stiles now. ''What do you think about three-quarter-length sleeves like the ones in that green dress? They hide how full your arms are. Maybe dolman sleeves as well.''

''What the hell,'' frowns Stiles, jabbing Derek's stomach with his finger. ''You actually know this stuff?''

It was an honest reaction, but Stiles feels bad for a second. Blue is confident and graceful, amazing, she wouldn't blurt things out like that. It was Stiles.

However, Derek grins in answer, stupidly proud of himself, so Stiles leaves the thought alone.

''I have sisters,'' replies Derek.

''Plural?''

''One older and one younger.''

''Huh, so you're a middle child.'' Stiles looks at him for a moment. ''Isn't that traumatic or something?''

''Yes,'' agrees Derek drily, his face blank, ''it's very traumatic.''

They order some dresses for Stiles on the Internet, using Stiles' mobile. Derek buys one for himself as well to, as he called it, keep Blue company. Stiles gives him shit for easily mentioning such things as cap sleeves, tea length dresses, and Zouave jackets. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

 ***

They meet at the Jungle on Saturday as well, but don't stay in the club, instead go out on the parking lot and sit on Derek's sister's fancy car, the black Camaro. They're stargazing and arguing. Derek knows the names of the constellations and, vaguely, their shape, but has no idea which star belongs to which constellation. Stiles can't stop laughing listening to him confidently pointing them out.

''Come on, this star's completely random,'' he interrupts Derek, smiling widely. ''See that bright one higher up? _That's_ Alpha Andromedae.''

''Well, where's Almach then?''

''Just over there.''

Derek turns to Stiles, watching his face for a while. ''You actually know about the stars and constellations,'' he notices.

Stiles rolls his eyes.

''No, seriously, you're smart.''

''Why do you sound so surprised? You know that's offensive, right?''

Derek huffs out a laugh. ''People generally don't know astronomy that well.''

''Maybe people don't,'' admits Stiles. ''But what about AIs?'' he asks in a conspiring voice.

''You have some secret identity?''

''Yeah, twenty of them,'' replies Stiles with a straight face. ''Government owned AI to enroll you in a mysterious program is one of them.''

''Cross-dressing AI?''

''Seriously? That's your first question?'' asks Stiles, disappointed. ''It's to make things more dramatic. You see, I'm becoming sentient.''

''Ah, of course,'' answers Derek easily. ''What's the goal of this mysterious program I'm supposed to get into?''

''To save the Earth,'' replies Stiles. '' _Duh_.''

Derek smirks. ''My sisters will be so jealous.''

''See? I knew being a middle-child was traumatic.''

 ***

Just to be safe, Stiles orders a graphic t-shirt he can wear to school alongside the dresses.

Then, he adds another thing, just to – it's just an experiment, maybe it's not exactly _normal_ but he's already gay and cross-dressing, it's just to see how it'd be like because he can't stop thinking how it could look on him, how it would feel on his body under Blue's dresses – he orders lingerie.

 ***

The next Monday means Scott and Allison are together for a month and a half. Stiles decides he is creepy, counting like that. He should stop.

He enrolls in a math club to distract himself. He also somewhat hopes to make a friend, which he can admit is a really sad goal for a math club.

He wonders if it's just his dumb brain searching for some sign when he notices Scott looking around the corridor and stopping when Stiles is there, his lips curling up into a – slight smirk? Or is Stiles projecting? – then turning to kiss Allison.

 ***

Tuesday, an odd thing happens. He sees Scott talking to one of Derek's close friends, Isaac Lahey.

 ***

Wednesday, he keeps noticing Scott and Allison talking with Isaac Lahey throughout the whole day. Allison leaves one of her classes discussing something with Heather, but when Scott comes up he won't even look at her. He only takes Allison's hand and leads her to Lydia Martin. Heather's smile diminishes and she drops her eyes, walking to her next class alone.

It doesn't make sense. Scott's not like that. He doesn't care about popularity – of course, he wanted to be popular, everyone wants, but he's not the kind of person to divide people because-

Stiles really should stop thinking about Scott.

 ***

Thursday, Scott and Allison eat lunch together with Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, Isaac Lahey, and _Derek Hale_.

Stiles can't help watching the group, trying to figure out Scott's and Derek's roles in it. They all look so – like a fucking banner for high school, Best Years of Your Sorry Life. They are good looking, popular, athletic and smart, they are in love.

Suddenly, Derek turns and looks straight at him. Stiles snaps his head away immediately, busing himself with his lunch.

He knows he is being obvious but can't help it. His face feels hot and he's tense from the adrenaline rush. When he finally decides to glance at the group again, no one's paying attention to him anymore.

 ***

Friday, he realizes he doesn't like school. He has to watch Scott there, not only still fucking happy with Allison, but also popular now because of some successes in lacrosse. Stiles doesn't mind studying and lessons, even if most of them are boring – the problem is the other students.

Stiles doesn't like seeing Derek here. He is just a normal teenager, has a group of friends, and appears to be naturally confident and happy with his life. Sometimes, he seems to be glancing at Stiles. Stiles never looks back.

He can't tell what Derek's thinking of this lame Stiles. Derek knew that he was close friends with Scott, can see how alone Stiles is now, whereas Scott's happy.

He just wants to be Blue again.

 ***

Stiles gets to the Jungle, changes himself into one of the dresses he ordered together with Derek and waits at the bar. He finally feels settled in his skin, drinking coke and watching one guy dancing Macarena, unmindful of the music playing.

Derek actually hugs him when he sees him, grinning at his outfit.

''This guy keeps glancing at you,'' he says suddenly, tilting his head to the side.

Stiles looks over at the dancefloor and catches the gaze of a – oh, wow, it's not the Macarena guy, but actually some handsome blond guy.

''He is, like, really good-looking,'' he says, wide-eyed, turning back to Derek.

Derek huffs out a laugh. ''You look cute,'' he answers, glancing up at Stiles.

Stiles doesn't answer, too surprised. But then again, he isn't Stiles now, he is Blue. Blue's fucking amazing. She dances with awesome guys like, all the time.

Derek eyes him for a while. ''How do you look normally?'' he asks, curious. ''I've never seen you not cross-dressing.''

Stiles glances at him and away, licks his lips and shifts in his seat. ''Worse,'' he replies curtly.

Derek seems startled but Stiles doesn't let him say anything more, turning to regard the blond guy again.

''Oh my god, he smirked at me,'' he says, now somewhat freaked out.

Derek gives him a smile. ''You should go dance with him.''

Stiles watches him, considering. ''Yeah?''

Derek nods. ''You're not over your friend yet, are you?''

Stiles can't help a slight grimace at the thought of Scott and stands up. He gives Derek the last, I've-no-idea-what-I'm-doing look and goes dancing.

The guy grins at him and won't tear his eyes away. They sway to the rhythm but soon, it becomes too much for Stiles. It's weird, having this much attention on himself when he doesn't know this guy at all.

Stiles turns so that the guy is behind him. He doesn't seem to mind, his hands on Stiles' sides. Stiles looks up and sees Derek staring right at him.

He knows he should look away, but can't, wants to keep Derek's gaze on himself. He isn't sure how long they stay like that, keeping eye contact, Stiles still swaying to the rhythm to the music even as his mind's somewhere else entirely, but it feels amazing. Stiles has never felt this – this wanted, desirable.

Watching Derek, he completely forgot the guy behind him, who now spreads his hands more intently on Stiles' body, moving the right one upwards.

Stiles stiffens and jerks away, turning to the guy, but he only rolls his eyes at Stiles' reaction and gets lost between the dancing people.

Stiles flushes, somewhat ashamed of the way he reacted. He leaves the dancefloor, willing himself to catch Derek's eyes and keep his face blank. Derek points to the doors and Stiles nods in agreement.

The evening air feels cool against his skin. Derek gives him his leather jacket without a word and Stiles smiles a bit at him, grateful, then lets out the air. ''I didn't know he wanted to do something else,'' he blurts out, feeling like he should justify his behavior. He doesn't look up at Derek. ''I thought we will just dance.''

Derek is silent for a while, then turns to him and says, ''When I was a kid my parents made me take some dancing lessons.''

Stiles looks at him, confused, but Derek just gives him a small smile and asks, ''May I have this dance with you?''

Stiles can't help the way his expression turns delighted. ''Yes,'' he replies and places his hand in Derek's.

Derek shows him some basic steps and soon, they are dancing the waltz in the parking lot of the nightclub.

After a while, they feel hungry and take the Camaro to a still open diner. They have hamburgers, curly fries and chocolate shakes. The waitress doesn't pay attention to Stiles. No one looks at him oddly.

Just in this one night, he feels more like a teenager than during the whole last month.

 ***

Sunday, they're sitting at the bar. Stiles has another dress he bought on the Internet and Derek seems pleased with it.

''You look amazing,'' he says, his excitement making Stiles smile back at him. Derek leans closer and adds, ''A lot of guys keep looking at you.''

Stiles gives him a questioning glance. He's only noticed one guy regarding his way, but he was busy talking with Travis, the barkeeper who loves the Jungle's music and tried to convince Stiles how amazing club music in general is.

Derek props his hand on Stiles' barstool to say right in his ear, ''Because you're such a pretty girl.''

Derek's lips brush his earlobe. Stiles can't tell whether it was by accident or a deliberate teasing.

He doesn't know how to react. The words and the touch of Derek's lips send a shock of arousal down his body.

Blue would turn to Derek to ask with a small, confident smile, ''Want to dance?'' She'd lean closer to him, keep his gaze.

But Stiles, first and foremost, wouldn't get a compliment from Derek if Derek knew it's Stiles. Secondly, Stiles wouldn't believe it. Thirdly, he'd leave to spare himself further embarrassment.

He doesn't want to leave Derek now, though. He is also not that confident in his relationship with him to flirt back, questioning their still-new friendship.

In the end, he smiles awkwardly, not looking at Derek, and flushes.

He can still feel Derek's eyes on him and glances up at him.

''Want to go to the cinema?'' asks Derek suddenly.

Stiles agrees.

They take the Camaro again. At the entrance to the cinema, Stiles passes next to a mirror and watches as Derek Hale goes on a date with a girl oddly resembling Stiles.

He's been in this place many times but now, it feels different because he's not Stiles, he's Blue. Everything's the same as ever, yet feels somehow new.

They buy the tickets and the popcorn. Heading to the screening room, a woman bumps into Stiles and says, ''Oh, dear, I'm so sorry, are you alright?''

Stiles nods and she looks at him more closely.

''You have a lovely dress,'' she adds.

''Thank you,'' he replies softly, politely.

The woman smiles and goes her way.

They start walking again.

She thought Stiles was a girl. Well, obviously – he looks like a girl.

He glances at Derek, still rather taken aback, but he just smiles in the answer.

Thay watch _The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,_ then Derek drives him back to the club. He suggests waiting for Stiles to give him a ride back to his home, but Stiles manages to get out of it by saying that he wants to talk with Dorothy about her performance today.

Still, the evening feels kind of like a date. Stiles doesn't let himself think of it this way.

 ***

He is a lame idiot, that's why he expects Derek to look and smile at him on Monday. Obviously, he is ignored.

Stiles wills himself to go to the math club, even though he'd rather get home and hide from the world. There's a girl sitting next to him who eyes him critically.

''You any good at maths?'' she asks suddenly.

Stiles glances at her. ''I guess,'' he replies carefully.

She raises her eyebrows, staring at him. ''You _guess_?''

Stiles shrugs, feeling unsure in face of her unfriendly behavior. ''I don't have problems with the material we study in the classes and I like mathematics.''

''Huh,'' she says and tilts her head to the side. ''You know how to solve task 4?''

''Yeah.'' Stiles nods and moves his notes towards her.

She frowns, regarding them and points with her pen at the part of the equation. ''What is that?''

Stiles glances at her, surprised. ''You don't know this formula?''

''I'm a sophomore,'' she answers, not looking at him.

Stiles draws in his eyebrows. ''Then why are you in this club?''

She shrugs like it's nothing interesting. ''It was a dare. But Isaac's suffering in both lacrosse and basketball teams, so it's worth it,'' she smirks.

''Isaac?'' repeats Stiles. ''You mean Isaac Lahey?''

She turns to regard him. ''Yes. And you're?''

''Stiles Stilinski.''

She seems to be surprised for a second but clears her face quickly. ''Cora Hale.''

Stiles looks up at her and they shake hands. ''You're, uh,'' he starts, trying to find an innocent enough question, ''you have siblings here, right?''

Cora nods, eyeing him. ''Brother and sister.''

''Cool,'' replies Stiles, nodding his head and returning to his tasks. He thinks he's pulled off his apparent disinterest quite well, but Cora watches him a while longer before focusing back on math.

 ***

''Hey, I see you're talking with Heather now,'' says Scott, suddenly sitting down next to Stiles on the corridor as they wait for English class.

Stiles glances at him, surprised, then checks for Allison and Isaac, but there's just Scott, smiling at him.

''You took my words to heart then?'' he asks, gazing at Stiles expectantly, like he thinks he is a Good Person, a Good Friend to be the first to try to reconcile.

Stiles frowns at him. ''I talk to Heather 'cause she's a friend,'' he replies, tensing.

Scott doesn't seem deterred by Stiles' lack of enthusiasm for his presence, his lips still curled up. ''Yeah, but you're thinking of your future as well, aren't you? I told you I was just looking out for you.''

Stiles feels sick. ''No, Scott,'' he says and turns away. ''I'm still gay.'' When Scott doesn't reply, Stiles takes a breath and adds, ''I will still be gay in the future as well, even if it's – a problem,'' he blurts out, his hands tightly in fists.

Scott's smile slips away. Now he looks at Stiles with determination, his jaw set. ''You don't understand-''

Stiles narrows his eyes, doesn't listen to the rest of the words, suddenly angry. He shouldn't be, Scott was his best friend all those years, has put up with Stiles' awkward and nerdy self, didn't abandon him after his come-out – Stiles pushes his anger down.

''Why are you here?'' he asks quietly, looking on the ground. He hates how small he feels.

''I thought we could make up and be friends again, but if you can't _grow up_ and seriously think about-''

''Fuck you, Scott,'' Stiles cuts him off, standing up. He's so agitated for a second he just stares at Scott. He tries to come up with something more to say, resenting himself for hoping that Scott wanted to apologize when he doesn't feel sorry in the slightest, and snaps his head away. ''Fuck you,'' he repeats, his hands shaking.

That's what Blue would do, right? Stiles can't help being gay – he just _is_. Blue would say that it's not his problem that Scott has issues with that, and to just go away, there's a lot of fish in the sea and all that. If not Scott, there was this blond guy. Even Macarena guy is better at this point.

Stiles walks away, his movements jerky. His whole body is trembling. He manages to get to the bathroom and closes himself in the cabin, calming himself down after really losing his best friend.

 


	2. Step 2. Give Up, There's no Normal

There's something happening at their table. Stiles can tell by the way Allison stopped eating and now just sits completely still, not looking at anyone, how Isaac stares wide-eyed at Scott, who talks and talks and talks, but then Derek interrupts him, saying something in a low voice, making Jackson scoff and Lydia snapping at him, then turning to speak to Derek, who shrugs in answer, not looking at her. Lydia frowns and leans closer-

''You observe them a lot, huh?'' asks Heather.

Stiles winces and turns away. They don't always eat lunches together but today Heather chose to sit with him. Stiles' happy for it, he likes her – but he needs the information, he needs to know what happens to Scott and Derek, because – well – Scott was his friend – Derek's important to him now – Jesus, what's wrong with him?

He sighs and glances up at Heather. ''You know Derek Hale?''

She seems surprised by the question and shakes her head. ''Not really. I know his older sister, Laura, we're both volunteering in Ceres.''

''Wow, really?''

Heather nods. ''Laura's great,'' she adds with a slight smile, then frowns, thinking. ''Actually, I remember Derek was really depressed about one year ago?''

''Why?'' asks Stiles, looking at her intently.

''He had a girlfriend but she had to leave the town because of her parents or something. They tried to keep in touch, but you know,'' she shrugs, ''it kinda faded after a while.''

 _A girlfriend_ , echoes in Stiles' mind. He can't breathe for a second.

''Right,'' he says. Derek mentioned that a while ago, didn't he? ''Thanks.''

Stiles can't help a quick glance at Derek. Isaac is saying something to him, but Derek only grimaces and replies shortly, which makes Isaac lean away. Derek doesn't look at anyone, his head held low.

 ***

Wednesday. Derek's busy preparing for tomorrow's Spanish test. Stiles helps him revise the material, sitting in Derek's car, then in the diner.

Derek calls him Blue, of course, and smiles seeing the manicure Stiles got from Charlie. Stiles feels uncomfortable and changes the topic to basketball, which gets Derek going.

 ***

Weekend again. Finally. That's what Stiles lives for now. He leaves the house earlier than usual, can't wait to get to the Jungle.

He is laying down lazily with Derek on the hood of Camaro. Derek turns to him, their faces close, and smiles. ''You changed your lip gloss?'

Stiles meets his eyes, surprised. ''Yeah. Yashiro thought _Loveable Shade_ will look better with this dress.''

Derek's lips curl up and he hums in agreement, still watching him. ''She was right.''

Stiles smiles weakly and turns away, getting up to sit on the hood. He swallows and says, ''You know I'm a guy, right? Under all those clothes and make-up,'' he adds with an odd gesture of his hand.

He grimaces at his awkwardness. Somehow, lately, he's behaving like Stiles, even when he's Blue. Derek makes it easier, though he doesn't know how it makes sense. ''I normally wear worn out jeans and graphic t-shirts,'' he blurts out.

He regrets the slip immediately.

Derek smirks. ''That's a pity,'' he comments. ''Your legs are very nice.''

Stiles wills himself to keep still and gives Derek an annoyed glance, but he just shrugs, unbothered, and raises up to sit as well. Slowly, he drags his eyes on the length of Stiles' body, from his sneakers to his face, and smiles, focused only on Stiles. ''Yeah,'' he says. ''I know you're a guy.''

Stiles feels his face grow hot. His mouth is slightly open in surprise and he closes it, then drops his eyes.

Derek leans closer to him. ''I'd like to see you as a guy as well,'' he says, quieter.

His pupils are blown and there's a faint blush on his cheeks.

Stiles can't look at him, shakes his head, leans away.

''Why?'' asks Derek. Stiles risks a glance at him, but he doesn't seem hurt, just confused.

Stiles' mouth twists down. ''I don't look like you, okay? I'm not – _handsome_.''

Derek makes a sound of disagreement and moves closer, frowning slightly. ''I can still see you, Blue. Even with the make-up, it's rather light.''

 _You really, really don't_ , Stiles replies in his mind, closing his eyes briefly.

''I think you're cute,'' adds Derek softly.

Stiles doesn't look at him, but after a while sighs and gives him a sharp nod. ''I'll show you sometime. Just not today, okay?''

Derek seems somewhat disappointed, but nods. He gives Stiles a warm smile. ''Thank you.''

There is nothing to thank Stiles for, though.

 ***

''You have every reason to – not like me, but can I talk to you for a minute?'' asks Allison, looking at him, uncertain.

Stiles is so surprised he just stares at her for a second before glancing around the corridor. Of course, it's still empty, it's the lunch break, normal people are still eating or bonding, happy for some free time.

Stiles' not normal. He just wants the break to finish to go home because there's nothing for him at school.

''Why do you want to talk with me?'' he asks, regarding Allison.

''Sorry,'' Allison shifts her weight and grimaces, clearly uncomfortable. ''There's something I'd like to tell you.''

Stiles frowns at the evasive answer but shrugs, pointing the free place next to him.

Allison gives him a weak, grateful smile and sits down. ''I just wanted to tell you that,'' she tucks some hair behind her ear, ''I'm sorry. Really. I- my parents have always been busy with their lives and they are good for me, they are good people, but,'' she pauses, playing with her necklace, ''I could never tell if they even _like_ me. So when I met Scott and he was so nice to me, paid attention to everything I said and did, I was really happy about it.'' She takes a breath and glances at Stiles, suddenly tensing a little. ''I didn't think much about other people when I transferred here,'' she admits, dropping her eyes. ''But Scott told me that you were friends for a long time and now you don't talk at all, so I asked him what happened.''

Stiles closes off. His face turns blank as he stares before himself, tensing up, bracing himself for – something. He doesn't know Allison, it can be anything, but it can also be _something_.

''He was such a bad friend, Stiles,'' continues Allison, her voice softer. ''When he told me about you I couldn't-'' she stops herself and shakes her head. ''I realize it's not my place, but I feel like I have to tell you something, okay?'' she asks, turning to Stiles.

''Okay,'' replies Stiles. He has no idea what's going on.

''My parents didn't have much time for me but sometimes, my aunt would come to go shopping with me, gossip, you know, just be with me for a while,'' says Allison, suddenly changing the topic. ''I knew that she had a boyfriend but she didn't speak much about him. I saw him a few times but he was always so quiet.'' She closes her eyes for a second and Stiles can see a shadow crossing her face.

''I thought he was just this type of person, you know? My aunt was self-confident and I thought they worked like that.'' Allison pauses and sighs again, playing with the fringes on her bag. ''A few months ago she was arrested because she's killed him. She's been aggressive towards him all the previous year and I never realized.''

Stiles is so taken aback he just stares at her, then looks away, realizing he has no idea how to answer.

''Sorry,'' says Allion, seeing his expression. ''I know it's not your business, but I wanted to tell you that because I've read about abusive relationships after that. I knew my aunt and I never thought she'd-'' Allison cuts herself off, staring before herself and lets out the air after a second, shaking her head. ''And you're smart, Stiles, I know that. And good-looking,'' she adds with a smile, glancing at him again.

Stiles meets her gaze cooly, expressionless. He doesn't know what she's getting at, but if she needs to compliment him, it automatically makes him suspicious.

''So you deserve to be treated well,'' finishes Allison. ''You're not worse or – whatever. I don't know what Scott told you, but it's not true, and one day he'll understand it and be sorry for how he behaved.''

She doesn't say anything more for a longer while and Stiles wonders if this weird motivational speech was all she wanted to tell to him, but she glances at him again, her face oddly sympathetic.

''I like Scott. I really do, and I know what he's coming through now because my family has always been rather conservative but-''

Stiles frowns at her. ''You know you don't have to change him or anything, right?'' he interrupts her, looking at her with drawn eyebrows.

She gives him an odd smile and shrugs. ''I'm doing a good thing here, though, right?''

Stiles is too startled to respond.

Allison is quiet for a while, then turns to him, her expression worried. ''Just, whatever he says now, don't take it to yourself,'' she adds, stressing the words.

Stiles turns to her, uncertain. ''Okay,'' he repeats dumbly.

Allison bites her lip. ''You're better than that,'' she says.

Something about the phrase makes Stiles frown as he thinks about their conversation.

He regards her, his eyes slowly widening in realization. ''You think I'm, what, in an abusive relationship with Scott?'' he asks, incredulous.

Allison drops her eyes to the ground and doesn't reply.

Stiles lets out a sharp, incredulous laugh. ''Are you serious?'' he asks. ''Scott was my _best friend_ ,'' he says, staring at her. ''And you're dating him now – I mean, _what the fuck?_ ''

Allison takes in a breath. ''I just noticed some common signs and wanted to help you,'' she says quietly.

Stiles looks away from her. ''I can't believe this,'' he says, shaking his head. ''Okay, Scott was behaving oddly lately, but that's just – we're in high school, there's a lot going on, of course he's stressed about – everything.''

''You know that's an excuse,'' replies Allison softly, not raising her eyes.

''It's not an excuse!'' bursts out Stiles. The sound reverberates in the empty corridor and he grimaces, trying to calm himself down. ''There really is a lot going on right now.''

''That doesn't mean he can treat you like that.''

''Like what?'' asks Stiles in a hard voice, staring at her. ''What exactly have you heard from him?''

Allison tucks her hair behind her ear. ''I don't want to-''

''No, you know what? I don't care. Leave me alone,'' he says, standing up. ''Both you and Scott.''

 ***

He can't focus at all during the math club.

''That eyeliner was a bad idea,'' states Cora, looking somewhere else. Stiles glances at her, understanding the words only after a second.

''And those curled up hair? Those aren't sweet, just plain stupid,'' she continues. Stiles realizes she's talking about Lydia Martin.

''Don't even get me started on the red nails. They are more like dried up blood. And what she said about modern art exhibition? Not evocative or inspiring, it's just a bunch of sad drawings.''

Stiles makes some kind of noise, its meaning left open to interpretation as either agreement or denial, and Cora turns to him. ''Right?'' she asks, looking at him expectantly.

Stiles isn't sure what's going on and still having a mess in his mind after the talk with Allison, he doesn't answer.

''And her boyfriend isn't that amazing either. Isaac said that Scott McCall is playing so good recently, he may become the team's captain instead,'' adds Cora, then frowns, thoughtful. ''You know Scott, right?''

Stiles grimaces and shrugs, turning away, ''Kinda,'' he replies curtly.

Cora hums and nods. ''Lydia told Isaac his shoes don't match his backpack,'' she explains finally, tilting his head to Stiles and looking at him expectantly.

Stiles decides she's waiting for his reply and he makes himself shrug. ''She was joking, right,'' he answers.

Cora scowls at him and Stiles is momentarily hit with her resemblance to Derek.

''No,'' she argues. ''She was implying that Isaac can't choose his outfit to be one harmonious entity.''

Stiles stares at her, trying to understand the sentence. ''What?''

''She said that to offend Isaac,'' starts Cora just to pause, suddenly taking in his clothes, his shoes, and backpack. ''You know what,'' she says, catching Stiles' gaze again, ''I just don't like her. I told her that. And she was obviously wrong, Isaac has 30 scarves, one for every fucking day of April and he integrates them so that he _is_ one harmonious entity.''

Stiles nods and comes back to his calculations, grateful for finally having to do something simple enough.

***

He won't think about Scott anymore. Scott clearly doesn't want him in his life as he is now so Stiles will just push him out of his mind.

***

''Hey,'' he starts, looking at the dress in his hands, ''do you think I have self-esteem issues?''

''Yes,'' replies Dorothy immediately.

Stiles turns to make a face at her. She could have a reason for that, though, Stiles couldn't stand himself being Stiles anymore and didn't bother waiting for the weekend, instead came to the Jungle on Wednesday.

''Is that a joke?'' asks Charlie, frowning at him.

Stiles scowls. ''Look, I know I'm not really confident, but-''

''Wow,'' Yashiro interrupts him sarcastically, '' _confident._ ''

''Oh, come on,'' says Stiles, looking at them and putting the dress aside. ''I admit I don't exactly behave like, you know, a peacock or something, but-''

''Oh my god, a peacock,'' repeats Charlie and squints at him. ''How do you come up with those comparisons?''

Stiles rolls his eyes.

Dorothy starts laughing. ''A pea _cock_ , get it?'' she asks, staring at them expectantly.

''Who are you,'' states Yashiro in a grave voice, touching up on her make-up.

Stiles watches her in the mirror for a while, then glances at his own reflection.

He doesn't like seeing himself. He isn't bad looking but he isn't handsome either. He can't even start to compare himself to Derek, Jackson Whittemore or Scott. Suddenly, he remembers how helpless he felt right after his argument with Scott and tightens his fists, looking away. He is so fucking weak.

Stiles grimaces and lets out the air, slowly straightening and deciding to choose the clothes for his cross-dress tonight. To continue lying to Derek.

He really hates himself sometimes.

***

Thursday, Stiles opens his laptop and, after checking that his door and window is closed, types in _low_ _self-esteem_.

 _When you don't feel good about yourself_ , reads Stiles. Of course he doesn't feel good about himself. He is awkward, nerdy, lost his best friend and continues to lie to his new friend.

God, he's horrible.

Stiles reads some more, hating how accurate it is. He grimaces, bites his lip but finally opens a new card, typing in _how to get more self-confident_. There's an article on WikiHow with a few steps, examples and even pictures. He reads it, feeling like it's about someone completely different-

someone like Blue. Beautiful, self-assured and smiling. He can't even start to imagine himself that way. Why would he take pride in himself? For what? How can he identify his talents? He's not that good at anything.

He looks away from his laptop to glance at the doors and his window, as if he expects someone to be standing there, in his room, judging him for his choice of reading and saying _Really, Stiles? Really?_

He notices a stash of the video games in the corner and remembers how he used to play them with Scott. They've been spending so much time together, especially when younger.

It was so different when they were just kids. Stiles had this habit of blabbering about anything and everything but Scott would listen to him anyway. Even when Stiles would freak out about the Sun exploding and the universe collapsing, _we will all die, Scott_. And Scott would just go with it, asking him to buy some ice cream while they can.

It started changing in the middle school. Stiles wouldn't talk as much since Scott was more likely to roll his eyes or cut him off. He was getting impatient with Stiles, but honestly, who wouldn't?

Middle school was so stressful, though. Stiles was starting to realize he doesn't feel the way he should about the girls. Instead, he kept noticing the other boys' broad arms and slim waists, their necks with Adam's apples and low voices.

He's decided to come out to Scott just before they started high school. In case Scott would react badly, Stiles could always blame the fact that they grew apart on the new environment, new people, new friends.

Stiles straightens and messes his hair, jerking himself out of his thoughts. He glances at the screen but instead of reading some more, he remembers his talk with Allison and types in _abusive relationship_.

_Controlling._

_Possessive_.

 _Doesn't necessarily mean physical violence_.

Stiles draws his eyebrows and swallows forcefully. He closes his laptop and shoves it away from himself. It's stupid that he'd check it after Allison mentioned it. She was obviously jealous and wanted to keep him and Scott apart.

There's a part in his mind where he can't quite agree with that. Maybe she really wanted to help him, still guilty after not realizing what her aunt was doing, she just didn't know how exactly to talk to Stiles.

He huffs out, feeling tense, and decides to bake something to distract himself.

***

Friday, Cora sits with him during the lunch. Stiles feels like a teenager after a suicide attempt, where the family and kind-of friends feel bad for him and try to take care of him, make sure he's not alone, cheer him up.

It's a bad comparison. Stiles is still left alone most of the time, and Cora and Heather aren't the kind to feel obligated to spend time with him to make sure he's more or less okay.

It's good that Cora sat with him. She keeps criticising Isaac's taste in music and Stiles has an excuse to keep glancing at Derek.

***

''Moscow Mule?'' asks Travis, looking at them with a smirk.

''Moscow means Russia,'' says Derek.

''Russia means vodka,'' guesses Stiles, regarding Travis, who nods.

''Yeah, but you also add ginger beer and lime juice,'' he says, then turns away as a client comes up to order something.

''You know what I'd like to try?'' says Stiles, looking at the menu. ''Virgin Mary.''

''It's disgusting,'' replies Derek, making a face. ''It has a tomato juice.''

Stiles nods. ''Exactly, it's even healthy.''

''You add Tabasco and Worcestershire sauce,'' argues Derek, disbelieving.

''No, look,'' says Stiles, pointing at the menu. ''It's to _spice things up,''_ he reads aloud. ''None of your fruity, sweety, colorful Pimm's Cup.''

''It has strawberries, orange, and lemonade. Who wouldn't want that?''

''And liqueur.''

Derek makes a face. ''It's not necessary.''

''You do know that non-alcoholic drinks are called _mock_ tails for a reason, right?''

''I don't care,'' shrugs Derek and drinks some of his Sangria with grape juice instead of red wine. ''I'm not embarrassed to embrace my delicate side.''

Stiles huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. ''I really didn't see you this way,'' he admits.

Derek looks at him, surprised. ''I've cross-dressed with you the first time we met,'' he reminds him.

Stiles laughs again to mask his surprise. ''Right,'' he nods. ''We were in the Broken Hearts Club.''

Derek smiles, finishes his sad grape juice pretending to be a cocktail, puts his glass down on the counter and turns to look at Stiles with an odd expression.

''Hey,'' he says, suddenly serious, still watching Stiles. ''Do you want to dance?''

''Sure,'' replies Stiles. He wonders why Derek sounded so hesitant until they are on the dancefloor and Derek stands behind him, placing his hands on Stiles' sides.

Stiles feels like he shouldn't allow that but he wants to dance with Derek, wants to feel his touch, and pushes away all his doubts. He is Blue, he is pretty, he is not Stiles, and he closes his eyes and starts swaying his hips to the rhythm of the music.

The longer they dance, the closer Derek seems to be to him. Soon, Stiles can feel his soft breath on his neck, his warm chest on his back. Usually, there'd be more people dancing around Stiles as Blue, but now they are left alone. He wonders if it's just because Derek's here or if Derek glares at anyone stepping in too closely. The thought sends a shiver down his spine.

He shouldn't think that. He focuses back on the dance and Derek's touch and his thoughts don't seem that important anymore.

Derek splays his hands on his sides, his touch firmer, and Stiles can't help concentrating on the warmth of his fingers. Derek's right hand slowly pushes down, to Stiles' thigh over his skirt, then even lower. He stops just as he can barely touch Stiles' bare thigh and slowly draws small circles with his middle finger, uplifting Stiles' skirt by inches.

Stiles is hard already. He bites his lip to not moan out loud.

Derek pushes Stiles closer to himself with his left hand and moves it upwards, stopping just under padded cups for breasts he doesn't have.

Stiles can't stand it anymore. He drops his head back on Derek's shoulder and gasps his name into his neck.

He can hear Derek taking a shuddering breath as he moves his hips closer and Stiles can't help himself anymore, feeling his length, and moans.

He realizes after a moment Derek saying something and focuses on the sounds, soon recognizing a broken, '' _Blue._ ''

It feels like a bucket of cold water.

Stiles tenses, hearing the name, but wills himself to relax again. He _is_ Blue. When he spends time with Derek it's still him, even if he has a different name, it's not a lie.

He presses closer to Derek.

''God, you're so-'' starts Derek, his hands hot on Stiles. ''Blue,'' he repeats again.

And Stiles doesn't care. He is Blue.

He bites his lip hard, opens his eyes and stops moving.

''What's wrong?'' asks Derek.

Stiles can hear his breaths, so close to his ear. It takes everything to move away.

He points to the doors and not looking at Derek, leaves the dancefloor. He's somewhat hoping Derek will let him go alone, but just as he reaches the exit, Derek catches up to him and grabs his arm.

''What's wrong?'' he asks again, wide eyes and parted lips.

Stiles doesn't reply, relieves his arm, goes out. He can't bear to look at Derek who just starts walking after him again.

''Don't leave, please. I'm so sorry, I won't do that again-'' he starts.

Stiles turns to him, already shaking his head, his eyes on the ground. ''That's not it,'' he says, his hands shaking.

''Then what's wrong?''

When Stiles doesn't answer, Derek steps closer. ''Please, Blue, just don't leave,'' Derek says pleadingly.

Stiles hates himself. ''That's not my name,'' he blurts out.

Derek raises his hand to gently touch his cheek. ''What's your name?'' he asks softly.

Stiles closes his eyes to avoid his gaze. ''Fuck, don't make me lie to you,'' he whispers, desperate.

''Then don't lie to me,'' replies Derek, like it's just that easy. His voice is still so soft Stiles is afraid he'll just spill everything out.

He closes his eyes and takes a step back, away from Derek's touch. Then, he breathes in and forces his voice to be clear, steady and sure. ''Go back home,'' he says, keeping Derek's gaze and tries to ignore his hurt, the way Derek stares at him, shocked, forgetting everything else. ''Sleep. On Monday find this guy you like and talk with him.''

Derek shakes his head, still looking at Stiles like he can't believe this is happening. ''No, please,'' he says softly. ''I don't even think about him anymore. Blue-'' Derek starts and cuts himself off, then takes a step closer and his face all but shatters when Stiles moves away from him again. There is a beat of silence where Derek tries to catch his gaze but Stiles determinedly looks away. ''I really like you,'' says Derek simply, just letting the words out.

Stiles doesn't try to appear decisive anymore. He looks away and tightens his fists, focusing on the pain of nails digging into his skin. After a moment, he manages to shake his head and take a step. Then, another one.

He walks away.

Derek calls after him, but Stiles keeps going.

***

Saturday, there is nothing.

***

Sunday, there is nothing.

***

Monday, there is nothing – until Derek stops next to him during lunch to ask, ''Can I sit here?''

Stiles looks up at him, startled. ''Yeah,'' he replies, then opens his eyes wider as he realizes Derek knows his voice. He needs to change it somehow when he talks with him.

For now, Derek doesn't seem to suspect anything and sits down.

Stiles can't look at him, stupidly convinced that any eye contact will make Derek understand that Stiles is Blue. He is tense, looks down at his food just to decide that he can't imagine eating anything now, and puts down his fork to drink some water instead.

Suddenly, Derek huffs out a cheerless laugh. ''You really don't like me, huh?''

''Uh, no, that's not it,'' answers Stiles at once, surprised, and glances up at him. ''I just, I don't know you,'' he says, grimacing slightly.

He bites his lip after a second, realizing he was too surprised by Derek's question to change his voice.

Derek sighs softly. ''My friend wanted me to come and talk to you.''

Stiles freezes, staring at the table between them.

 _No way_.

''Your friend?'' he repeats. His voice sounds lower, good. ''Isaac Lahey?''

Derek gives him a quizzical look. ''No,'' he answers. ''She's not a student here.''

It's just a magical coincidence. It's a fucking unicorn.

''Why?'' asks Stiles, still not making eye contact with Derek. He fiddles with the string of his hoodie.

''I'm not sure,'' replies Derek, watching him. Then, he adds slowly, ''Maybe she knows something I don't.''

Stiles closes his eyes but doesn't answer.

''I don't know why she wouldn't tell me, though,'' continues Derek in this oddly calm voice.

''Maybe,'' starts Stiles and licks his lips, ''maybe she was afraid of your reaction.''

Derek won't look away from him, completely motionless. ''Why would she be afraid? We're friends.''

Stiles shrugs, the movement jerky. ''Bad memories?'' he suggests weakly.

For a minute, Derek doesn't say anything. Stiles feels his body growing uncomfortable with the lack of movements but he's too stressed with the situation, has no idea what will happen now, and doesn't dare to shift, not wanting to draw more attention to himself.

''Still,'' says Derek finally, ''I trusted her.''

Stiles drops his head. ''I'm sure she regrets it,'' he replies softly.

Derek leaves.

*** 

During the math club, Cora glares at her calculations, promising a slow, painful death to Pitagoras, cursing Isaac and imagining how sore he has to be after all the training. Stiles listens to her without speaking much, grateful for something to occupy his mind.

***

Tuesday, Derek won't talk with him. Instead, he glances at Stiles throughout the whole day, his face unreadable.

***

Wednesday, Stiles leaves his last class and goes down the corridor to go home and mope with Futurama. He sees Derek and Isaac going the different way and looks away, but they do know each other. He should at least nod at him or something.

When Stiles passes Derek, he decides to mumble, ''Hey,'' low enough to be heard only by him. Derek looks up at him and grabs his wrist to keep him in place.

''We're going to play basketball,'' states Derek, his face blank.

''Uh, okay?''

Derek nods and lets go of his wrist. ''Yeah, okay,'' he says.

Stiles frowns at the reply.

Isaac nods. ''I need to practice jump shots,'' he explains to Stiles.

Derek looks at Isaac for a while, then says out of the blue, ''Did you know that Cora adds cereal first, then pours milk on it?''

''What? Why?'' asks Isaac, incredulous. ''You obviously pour milk first,'' he states.

Derek nods his head but doesn't seem to be paying much attention to Isaac's words. ''You should go tell her that.''

''Yeah, I will!''

''I think she's just finished History.''

''No, today's Wednesday so her last period was Biology,'' says Isaac.

Derek regards him without a word for a minute and Stiles waits for Isaac to understand that Derek must be thinking of Isaac knowing his younger sister's schedule better than himself, but Isaac's face remains amazingly clear.

Finally, Derek claps his arm. ''Right. See you.''

Isaac nods, turns and quickly goes upstairs. Derek catches Stiles gaze and starts walking the other way.

Not sure what else to do, Stiles follows.

They practice jump shots in an odd silence. Derek's eyebrows are furrowed and his lips tight as he regards the basket, preparing himself for the shot, but Stiles knows it can't be just the focus on the training. Derek has no problem scoring and now again the ball seamlessly lands in the basket and Derek catches it back, then throws it to Stiles.

He looks at the basket and sighs internally. He's never been good at sports. Just as he raises his arms for the shot, Derek speaks up suddenly.

''What about this Scott guy?''

''What?'' Stiles blurts out, snapping his head to the side. ''What about him?'' he asks when Derek won't meet his eyes.

''You don't talk anymore.''

Stiles eyes Derek for a second longer, then turns to the basket and throws the ball, which bounces off from the verge of the basket. He catches it and hands over to Derek.

''We parted our ways due to ideological differences,'' he replies with a blank face. The words feel weird and untrue, even though it's not a lie. Stiles chose them for that exact reason.

Derek turns the ball in his hands, watching the basket. ''So you're still in the Broken Hearts Club,'' he says, somewhere between a statement and a question.

Stiles shrugs, feeling awkward. Broken Hearts Club was something he had with Derek as a Blue, it belonged to the Jungle, not to the normal, bleak reality of the fucking Beacon Hills High. ''I'm not,'' he replies.

Derek glances at him, shifts his weight and suddenly throws the ball, of course scoring another one. In a moment, Stiles catches the ball and throws it, momentarily impressed when it hits the target. They practice in silence again until Derek nods at him sometime later and says, ''Thanks.''

Stiles shrugs, not sure how to reply. ''Glad I could help,'' he mutters and turns to leave.

''You did,'' answers Derek.

Stiles glances back at him, surprised, but Derek's not looking at him.

He bites his lip, feeling out of place, and finally goes home.

***

The next day, Derek sits with him during lunch together with Isaac. Derek doesn't say anything, so Stiles keeps silent as well, waiting for the break to end. It's weird. When he was Blue, it always felt so easy to talk with Derek, the conversation flowing seamlessly. Even when they were quiet, it didn't feel stifling like now, but natural.

Isaac either heard something or guessed that there's something between Derek and Stiles because he keeps glancing at Stiles during the meal. Every time Stiles passes him or just sees in school, he'll eye Stiles oddly.

Stiles ignores him. But when they pass each other on the corridor before the last time, it doesn't work anymore. Isaac suddenly stops walking, regarding Stiles, then comes up to him, determined. 

''Hey,'' he says, watching Stiles intently, ''you know Cora?''

Stiles can just stare at him for a minute because _this_ is _so_ high school. ''Yeah,'' he sighs finally, relaxed that it's not about Derek. ''We're both in the math club.''

The answer seems to please Isaac. He tilts his head to the side and asks, ''So, do you know of something she really doesn't like?''

Stiles raises his eyebrows, surprised. ''Ah,'' he says, remembering Cora's words. ''Because you guys are like rivals or something?''

Isaac nods with a smile, apparently satisfied with the term. ''I have to take revenge for this double training shit she made me do.''

''Sure,'' drawls Stiles, but Isaac doesn't recognize the irony. ''I think she doesn't really like art.''

Isaac's eyes widen and he grins. ''Okay, I have an idea,'' he states, looking somewhere else. ''She's gonna hate it,'' he breathes, excited.

During the Chemistry, they're supposed to make a project on a chosen topic. When the teacher tells them to divide into pairs, Stiles glances at Heather, but she's already talking with Allison – Scott doesn't share this class with them.

He grimaces and decides that life will resolve the problem of Chemistry project's partner for him. It turns out to be a bad decision when Derek stands up and walks through the whole classroom to ask Stiles, ''Can we do the project together?''

Stiles tries to not feel the looks from the rest of the students. ''Sure,'' he sighs. ''That's not weird at all,'' he adds, surrendering.

Derek ignores the comment and sits down next to him.

He still doesn't say anything.

Stiles moves his notebook and pen on the desk, messes his hair, remembers he sits with Derek and tries to correct his hairdo, gives up.

Silence.

He knocks the desk with his pen.

Derek stops him, keeping his hand in place. Stiles makes a face at it and turns to Derek, who's watching him, considering.

''What?'' asks Stiles, already feeling defensive.

Derek shrugs but doesn't look away from him. ''It's odd how similar you behave to Blue.''

Stiles turns away to clear his mind, then glances back at Derek, his face blank. ''Should we make a project on phase transitions?''

He ignores the way Derek's expression falls.

''If you want to,'' replies Derek after a second.

He doesn't let the conversation stray from Chemistry project.

He remembers how easy it was to talk and joke with Derek and can't believe he sits with the same person. Their conversations are stilted, silences awkward and deafening.

***

It's Friday and Stiles no longer waits for the weekend. He doesn't want school either, but at least it tries to occupy his mind.

''I'll see you in the club tonight,'' states Derek, holding Stiles' gaze. Exactly what Stiles needed on a Friday afternoon, fuck.

He glances at Derek, then at Isaac, standing next to him, and away, away, away.

Suddenly, he's angry. ''Is it an order, Hale?'' he bites out.

Derek sets his jaw, looking at him still. ''Yes.''

''Fuck you,'' spits Stiles, his hands in fists.

Derek narrows his eyes. ''It's such a hardship when I know who you are?''

''Like that's the case,'' sneers Stiles. ''I don't feel like coming back to school on Monday when everyone talks about what a _freak_ I am.''

Derek's eyes widen in realization. ''Jesus, Stiles, you know I wouldn't do that-''

''Of course,'' says Stiles readily, sarcastic. ''Scott wouldn't do that either.''

Derek flinches. ''That's not fair,'' he replies, softer.

''Because you've been so fair and honest with me,'' retorts Stiles immediately. He doesn't think much about what he's saying anymore.

Derek frowns, not understanding, so Stiles continues. ''Practicing basketball? Preparing the Chemistry project together? The way you've been glancing at me the whole fucking week?''

Derek parts his lips in surprise but Stiles bulldozers on, completely ignoring Isaac, still there. ''I don't know what that was about, I can't keep track of you and understand you like some kind of a web cookie.''

Derek lets out a short, startled laugh, then looks away. He bites his lip and glances at Stiles, then takes a step closer.

''Um-'' starts Isaac.

Derek places his hand on Stiles' cheek and Stiles should retreat but he's too caught up in Dereks eyes.

''What are you doing?'' he hisses, tensing up. 

Derek's face falls. ''I thought you didn't-''

''No,'' Stiles cuts him off, taking his hand away from his face. ''Fuck, Derek, it's you. You're a model student here. You can't do shit like that, not with me.''

''Don't talk like that,'' replies Derek at once, back to touching his cheek, looking at Stiles intensely.

''Um,'' starts Isaac again, ''what about the practice?''

They both ignore him.

''You shouldn't come out like that,'' says Stiles quietly.

''Why?'' asks Derek. ''I want to be with you. I want to be _seen_ with you.''

Stiles closes his eyes. ''Don't be like that,'' he tries again weakly.

'' _Why?_ '' repeats Derek, shuffling even closer. ''You're smart, funny, and cute. I want to be with you.''

''Okay, no practice, I'll just go,'' decides Isaac, speaking from somewhere on the side. ''I'll, uh, just leave you to it,'' he adds. Then, quieter, more to himself than to them, he says, ''I can't believe Cora's still better than me at fucking jump shots.''

Stiles looks up at Derek and bites his lip. ''You want me to go to the club as a Blue?''

Derek shakes his head, holding his gaze. ''I want you to go however you want.''

Stiles ducks his head, his face hot.

Derek leans closer now and instead of saying anything more, he touches Stiles' nose with his, gently trying to make him raise his head. Stiles meets his gaze and sees Derek's flushed cheeks. He stares dazedly at the flushed skin just before Derek kisses him.

***

Derek gets into a fight with Charlie when they try to decide which shirt will go better with Stiles' new skirt. Stiles grins stupidly through the whole debate, hearing about obvious color matches, patterns, materials, and cuts.

He goes out to change clothes. Adjusts the black panties he's decided to take today, tracing with his finger the edge of the material, observing the movement in the mirror. It looks – different on his body. He watches the heaviness at the front, where the material stretches, hiding his cock before putting on the skirt, the shirt, and his shoes.

When he comes back, Derek's flushed and won't meet his eyes. Stiles shoots a glare at Charlie, Yashiro, and Dorothy, immediately knowing that Derek's just got interrogated.

He sits down before the mirror and asks, ''Can I use that Loveable Shade of lip gloss today, Yashiro?'' All the while, he keeps looking at Derek, who glances at him, hearing the words.

He makes sure to apply the lip gloss while still watching Derek in the mirror. Derek won't tear his eyes away from Stiles' mouth.

Once he's finished, Stiles stands up, still feeling Derek's gaze on himself. It makes him feel immensely powerful. They leave the backstage, the air between them heavy with all the possibilities and the anticipation. The club is loud, though, the people sweaty and unmindful of whatever's going on between them, so Stiles jerks his head to the doors leading outside, getting an immediate nod from Derek in the answer.

The music can still be heard here and Stiles listens to it mindlessly for a minute, having closed his eyes. He opens them back and glances at Derek, who's watching him closely. It feels so good to just be here, realizes Stiles. They aren't even doing anything and it's just _so nice_.

Derek moves closer, reaching with his hand to Stiles, who can't stop his grin, realizing his intention.

The waltz isn't as bad as it could be, seeing as they have almost no practice. Still, they mess up their steps, trip over their feet and once, Stiles loses his balance, tipping to the side, clutching to Derek, who somehow manages to get him back upright.

Stiles starts laughing at how ridiculous it must look and can't stop for a while. When he finally opens his eyes, lips still stretched in a huge smile, Derek is looking at him, can't seem to be able to look away the whole evening. This time there's a small smile on his face, his eyes seem soft, and he leans closer to Stiles.

Derek intended the kiss to be chaste and sweet, but the feeling of him this close makes Stiles gasp softly and deepen the kiss. He holds Derek's shirt, keeping him as close as he can, but Derek presses even more. His hands reach to Stiles' neck, the other moving to his back. Stiles makes a small noise at that and Derek's hand moves downwards, to his hip, his bare thigh, just barely under his skirt.

''Derek,'' whispers Stiles frantically and coming back to the kiss immediately, tilting his head.

Derek groans and manages to break the kiss to ask, his voice low, ''My car?''

Stiles nods and they cross the parking lot, the colors and sounds from around coming back with impossible intensity.

Stiles sits down inside Derek's car, his heart beating so hard he can hear it in the sudden silence. He glances to the side and sees his reflection in the window, his hair in disarray, his lip gloss is smudged and skin flushed.

He shouldn't be here. Derek's a normal teenager and now, just because he met Stiles, he's in the Jungle's parking lot, making out with a cross-dresser. If Stiles weren't so self-absorbed he'd stay away from Derek-

Derek opens the door on the other side and slips inside. He turns to Stiles, looking at him with wide-open eyes, parted lips and cheeks tinged with pink.

It strikes Stiles that he can't possibly regret anything that led to this moment.

Derek leans closer to kiss him again and Stiles forgets whatever he was thinking earlier. He can only feel Derek's warm hand on his side, the other resting on his thigh before moving down to his knee. Stiles moans at that, tilting his head back and Derek shuffles closer, kissing and softly biting his neck.

He can feel Derek's hand gripping his knee tighter, dragging it closer to himself and obliges, getting up to sit on Derek's legs, straddling him.

As they kiss again, Stiles opens his eyes slightly just to see Derek before him. He feels overwhelmed with emotion, so grateful to Derek and moves to keep their bodies as close as possible. Derek lets out a soft sound and buckles. They both groan, feeling their lengths touch.

Derek moves his hands up, pressing them into Stiles' skin, his fingers sliding under the skirt, finally reaching Stiles' ass. There, he pauses suddenly, his right hand raising the material of the skirt and taking in a sharp breath.

Stiles freezes, realizing that Derek has seen his panties. He can feel his stomach drop and closes his eyes.

In a moment, Derek's fingers are trailing his cock up to the head, peeking out from above the material. He lets out a shuddering breath.

''God, I want you so much,'' says Derek and Stiles opens his eyes, finding his gaze.

Derek takes out his cock and holds both of their lengths in his hand. Stiles feels dazed and grips Derek's neck hard, trying to anchor himself. He starts moving his hips in rhythm, can't tear his eyes away from where they're touching.

He glances at Derek and seeing his parted lips as he breathes quickly, he releases Derek's hand and raises it to his mouth to lick his palm, then guides it back to their cocks.

''Stiles,'' whispers Derek, staring at his lips and drags him in for a hard kiss, moving his hand fast.

Stiles moans into the kiss, clutching the front of Derek's shirt. He can feel Derek's other hand gripping his ass, then moving to his entrance through the material of the panties, rubbing there lightly, and that's enough to tip him over. He comes in time with Derek's strokes, but Derek doesn't let his lean away, keeping him close, working his own cock until he's cumming as well.

Stiles leans his head on Derek's shoulder, getting his breath back, and suddenly huffs out a laugh in the quiet, heated air. ''Isn't this Laura's car?'' he asks, raising his eyes to glance at Derek.

Derek catches his gaze, then groans, his head falling back. Stiles grins and kisses his exposed neck.

***

''I solved this shit,'' states Cora, leaning back in her chair. ''You just watch me, Isaac,'' she smirks.

Stiles glances at her. ''You mention him a lot,'' he notices.

Cora turns to him, frowning. ''What? I don't,'' she replies immediately.

''You've mentioned him every time we talked,'' adds Stiles, surprised at her defensive tone.

''We haven't talked that much,'' points out Cora.

''Yeah, exactly,'' says Stiles, watching her, curious, ''and you always say something about him.''

''That's – it's not like that,'' replies Cora, shaking her head. ''It's just Isaac.''

''Okay,'' says Stiles easily and turns to finish his calculations. He doesn't want to push her for information.

Cora watches him with narrowed eyes. ''It's really not like that,'' she repeats. ''I mention him-'' she pauses and grimaces, ''well, it's because of him I'm even here.''

''Okay,'' repeats Stiles, not looking up from his notes.

Cora stares at him longer, frowning, but finally returns to her notes and raises her pen just to pause mid-air. ''We're just friends,'' she says, staring at her notes. After a while, she starts doing the calculations, her eyebrows drawn.

When the bell rings, they go out together and Stiles can't help brightening up, seeing Derek standing outside with Isaac. He'd feel stupid about it but Derek grins back at him. For a minute, it's like they are alone on the corridor.

''I'm fucking amazing at math. I solved all the problems today,'' says Cora, locking gaze with Isaac. Stiles listens to her half-heartedly, moving closer to Derek.

''Sure,'' drawls Isaac. ''But you're terrible at drawing, aren't you?''

Cora narrows her eyes. ''I challenge you to drawings of the unicorns tomorrow at noon,'' she states.

Stiles can hear the conversation somewhere on the side but Derek's his primary focus, standing so close to him, smiling.

''Deal,'' straightens Isaac, his posture completely relaxed. ''But you should know that I've been practicing my drawings for the last few days.''

''That's cheating,'' says Cora, making a face. ''Right?'' she asks, turning to Stiles and Derek – who are now kissing. ''Oh, right,'' she says, as Stiles leans back, flushing. ''You're dating now, huh?'' She watches them for a while, finally catching Derek's gaze. ''You could do worse,'' she decides, then glances at Stiles. ''Actually, that goes to both of you.''

''What, and that's all?'' asks Isaac, looking at her.

Cora shrugs. ''What more do you want?''

''I don't know,'' he frowns. ''But I'd be freaking out if you started dating someone and we're not even siblings.''

Stiles exchanges incredulous looks with Derek.

''Yeah,'' nods Cora, thoughtful. ''It'd be so weird if you started dating someone.''

''Right?'' Isaac looks at her, suddenly excited. ''Hey, but what if _you_ were to date _me_? You could come to my games!''

Cora draws in her eyebrows. ''I already come to your games.''

''Well, yeah, but then you'd come as my _girlfriend,_ '' he says, like it makes any sense.

Cora seems to think that it does, actually considering the suggestion. ''And we could go on dates, like to the amusement park or to the cinema,'' she adds.

''Exactly!''

''Okay. Wanna date then?'' asks Cora.

''Yeah!''

Cora smiles and looks at Derek. ''So this is Isaac, my boyfriend,'' she says and grins at the word, turning to Isaac, who beams back at her. ''Do you want to say something?''

''No,'' replies Derek tonelessly. ''I have no words.''

''Okay,'' answers Cora, cheerful. ''Let's go tell Laura,'' she says to Isaac, who nods.

''That's so fun!'' he calls, going with her.

''Wow,'' breaths Stiles, watching them leave. ''I didn't expect that.''

''I've been expecting that for the last 12 months,'' replies Derek. ''I'm just relieved it's over.''

Stiles grins and rolls his shoulders, changing the topic. ''You know, I was thinking of volunteering like Heather and Laura, but in GLSEN. At least I'd be doing something. I hate how helpless I feel when something's not okay.''

Derek hums. ''Sure, if you want to,'' he says and gives Stiles a small smile, taking his hand in his.

There are some people watching them and talking among themselves.

Stiles looks away, grimacing slightly. ''Don't you get shit for dating me?''

Derek turns to stare before himself. ''Nothing I can't handle.''

''That's-''

''I'm fine,'' says Derek. ''No one who I care about has a problem with that.''

Stiles nods, unconvinced. They go through the corridor and pass Jackson Whittemore, standing beside his locker, searching for something. Lydia Martin waits next to him, her eyes on Scott and Allison on the other side of the corridor, kissing. There's an odd expression on her face and Stiles remembers how successful Scott was in lacrosse recently. Cora said that Isaac mentioned that he could become the team's captain, even though Jackson's been holding the position for a long time now.

He looks away, finding that he doesn't care. Whatever happens to them is not his life anymore.

''You know,'' he says to Derek, ''it's stupid and not true, but I feel like you were this normal teenager with a normal teenage life before you met me.''

Derek turns to him, frowning.

''I mean, you have a group of friends, you were hanging out with Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore-''

''Right,'' Derek speaks up, interrupting him with a grimace. ''I didn't really like them, though,'' he says. ''They had problems with everything. I felt tired one day and came to school wearing a plaid shirt and some old jeans and both Lydia and Jackson looked at me, all judgmental. Lydia asked if I was changing my style to, as she put it, _something like this._ ''

Stiles frowns. ''What's wrong with plaid shirts?''

''Everything,'' replies Derek. ''Colors and patterns, because you'll probably mess them up, especially if you add a shirt underneath, the way they are linked to the workers, lumberjacks, and grunge, which makes you in turn poor, wannabe lumberjack and angsty. Also, lazy, according to Lydia.''

''Oh,'' manages Stiles after a second. ''Just for the record, I don't want to be a lumberjack.''

Derek huffs out a laugh. ''Yeah, me neither.''

They go down the stairs onto the crowded ground floor, when Stiles continues, ''Still, Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore are popular. And they talked with you, because you're popular as well, great with studies and amazing in basketball.'' Stiles pauses. ''I feel like such a nerd compared to you.''

Derek doesn't answer and Stiles glances at him. ''What is it?''

Derek still doesn't respond, instead watches Stiles with a soft smile, completely at odds with the crowd of students rushing to the exit all around them. Stiles' about to ask what's wrong when Derek stops walking, leans in and kisses Stiles.

Right there.

In the middle of the corridor.

Derek leans back, still fucking smiling, as Stiles stares at him, stunned.

''Seriously?'' asks one guy, passing them by with a grimace. Stiles turns to look at him but he's gone already.

He glances at Derek again, who's grinning at him now, stupidly happy.

Stiles can't stop automatically softening at his smile and Derek takes it as an excuse to kiss him again.

***

''Laura? What are you doing here?' asks Derek with a frown, turning to a black-haired girl as she sits down next to him during the lunch.

''I'm not here for you, jerkface,'' she says coldly.

''How lovely,'' mutters Stiles.

She glances at him and says, ''I'm not here for you either, but take care of my brother. He's been happy like a fucking otter recently.''

''Uh, sure,'' replies Stiles, flushing, taken aback.

''What are you doing here?'' repeats Derek, glaring at Laura. His ears are pink and Stiles feels like he's melting. ''You've never wanted to talk with me at school.''

''Oh, I really feel this sibling love,'' comments Stiles in a lower voice.

''You were hanging out with the wrong crowd,'' answers Laura with a shrug, then grimaces. ''I don't like Lydia. She's so arrogant.''

Derek shrugs. ''She is,'' he admits.

It's weird. Stiles has always thought of Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore as the paragon of successful teenagehood, as a sort of guide, how to be a normal happy teenager, even as he knew he'd never be one since he was gay, awkward, and nerdy. Now, however, Lydia and Jackson were turning out to have flaws, and Stiles, even after losing his best friend, taking another step away from normalcy through cross-dressing and developing his nerdiness in the math club, was okay.

Stiles notices Heather and waves at her, remembering she knows Laura. Heather smiles at him and starts walking in the direction of his table, but her steps falter when she notices Laura. She straightens but walks to them anyway, finally sitting across the table from Laura.

''Oh,'' says Laura, seeing Heather. ''Hi,'' she adds softly and smiles a bit, glancing up at her. Almost immediately she drops her eyes to the table.

''Hi,'' replies Heather, equally shy.

Stiles looks at Laura, waiting for the return of her confidence but somehow, she seems completely different now that's Heather here. It doesn't make sense. Talking-about-gliding-lizards Heather shouldn't make anyone shy.

Laura asks Heather _about her day_.

''Oh,'' says Heather, ''it's – good.'' She flashes Laura a small smile and adds, looking at her, ''Nice.'' Realizing what she just implied, she blushes furiously, her eyes dropping to the table.

Laura flushes as well.

Stiles gapes at them as Derek rolls his eyes.

***

It's Wednesday, the middle of the week and Stiles couldn't care less which day is it.

''The unicorns aren't pink,'' says Cora, scandalized, looking at Isaac's drawing.

''Yes, they are, cause they're magic,'' replies Isaac.

''Why would magic make anything pink? That's stupid.''

''Well, I'm subtle,'' shoots Isaac. ''My unicorn doesn't have to ostensibly show how magic he is unlike yours, with the wings. It's like a cross-over with a pegasus.''

''No, it's pure blood, that's why it has wings,'' argues Cora.

''You're just making up some backstory now,'' accuses Isaac.

''I like the backstory,'' says Stiles. ''I vote for Cora's drawing.''

''No, Isaac's better,'' frowns Derek. ''I love the colors.''

''That's just because you're a sucker for pastel, soft, and sweet things,'' says Stiles.

''Well, I can't imagine unicorn as this bloody and murderous,'' replies Derek, staring at Cora's drawing with wide eyes.

Cora and Stiles share a look and sigh. ''I guess we can ask Laura about that one,'' she states and Isaac agrees.

''Take Heather with you,'' smirks Stiles.

''No, she's probably already talking with Laura. Lately, they keep on meeting coincidentally during the breaks,'' explains Derek.

''Right,'' says Stiles, nodding, watching as Cora walks away with Isaac. ''Small world.''

Derek smiles and gives him a soft kiss before heading to his class.

Stiles stays alone, waiting for English. He rolls his shoulders, realizes he's still smiling but doesn't try to neutralize his expression. He feels happy.

He notices some movement on the other side of the corridor and glances up to see Scott glaring at him before turning to say something angrily to Allison. She tries to calm him down, touching his arm, but he keeps talking and shoots another look to Stiles.

Stiles stares back, his smile gone, suddenly feeling weak.

Allison steps closer, her expression pleading, and Scott stops talking, unwillingly listening to her.

Stiles tries to take a breath and closes his eyes for a second.

He doesn't want to confront Scott. He doesn't want to get back whatever they had.

He focuses on his memories of friendship with Scott, trying to find a reason to keep waiting for him, but none of it seems important anymore.

Scott scoffs at whatever's Allion's saying, taking a step in Stiles' direction-

Stiles feels the blood drain from his face. God, he is so weak, _he is so fucking weak_ , he needs to-

Blue wouldn't care.

Stiles bites his lip. _It can't be that hard_ , he reasons with himself. The only difference is a dress, make-up and a wig, but it's still Stiles-

He straightens and wills himself to raise his eyes and catch Scott's gaze head-on, his heart beating wildly in his chest-

Scott turns away from Stiles, leaving Allison to come up to Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore. Allison glances at Stiles, who looks back at her, after a second managing an almost imperceptible nod.

Allison drops her eyes but her lips curl up a bit. She takes her bag and follows Scott.

Whatever happens between them now is between them and no one else.

Stiles breathes in, lets out the air, and doesn't regret a thing.

***

Isaac's drawing wins because Heather says that horses are actually really nice animals, which makes Laura look at her oddly and blurt out, ''Do you want to go to a veterinarian?''

''And Heather just turns to her with this slight frown and asks, _huh?_ Laura's obviously blushing by that point but continues with her eyes on the floor, that they could go see some diagrams and photos. Of horses. At the vet's.''

Stiles can't help a slight grimace, feeling empathetic with Laura.

''But here's the thing,'' continues Cora and Isaac nods with her, ''Heather blushes too, looks at Laura, smiles widely and says, _yeah. I'd love to_.'' Cora pauses, baffled, then turns to Isaac. ''We're so much better at dating than them,'' she states.

''Totally,'' agrees Isaac.

''Right?'' asks Cora, turning to glance at Stiles.

Stiles doesn't answer at first, smiling at Derek instead. ''I have no words,'' he repeats after him and grins, stupidly gratified when Derek huffs out a laugh and leans in for a kiss.

***

Stiles notices a girl in the same dress Derek bought for himself and watches her more closely. She has long, dark hair, the shoes he's seen once before and those eyes-

''Derek?'' he asks, glancing up at her.

''No,'' the girl replies in Derek's voice, ''it's Derine.''

Stiles smiles widely and sits next to her. Movements come so much easier when he has jeans instead of a dress. ''Are you waiting for someone here, Dee?''

''Yeah,'' Derine replies flatly. ''For you.''

''Oh,'' Stiles licks his lips, feeling stupid. ''I thought you wanted to role-play.''

Derine smirks at him. ''Another one of your kinks?''

''Said the cross-dresser,'' retorts Stiles, ignoring the way his cheeks feel hot.

Derine grins and Stiles wants to kiss her.

They hear some commotion and turn just in time to see Dorothy entering the stage.

''Ah, she's performing today,'' says Stiles, leaning closer to Derine.

Derine hums. Stiles watches her, his mouth slightly open, seeing the girl and Derek at the same time. He can't help kissing Derek's lips and Derine smiles at him before looking back at the scene.

Stiles smiles as well. Travis sways to the rhythm of the music, cleaning the glasses – okay, this song isn't that bad, Stiles can admit that much. His boyfriend is cross-dressing, his friends are either transsexual or drag queens, and they spend their free time in the gay club, where they can watch – oh god, is that guy in the corner trying to eat this guy's hair? Gross.

Okay, so that's not how most people imagine teenage years.

Stiles wouldn't have it any other way.

 

 


End file.
